How To Cure Ourselves Of Terminal Mahathiritis (revisited)

DON'T MISTAKE THE MAP FOR THE TERRITORY! 

A lifetime ago I worked in advertising and from that experience have learnt to avoid using meaningless words like "better" (except in reference to those who habitually place bets on everything). When an adman says "We've got a BETTER deal for you!" he rarely specifies better than whose deal. Similarly, the idea of "working towards a BETTER tomorrow" conveniently leaves it to your imagination as to what might constitute "a better tomorrow." Why not focus on being more contented and fulfilled TODAY? I mean, if you're cynical and grouchy now, what makes you think you'll feel otherwise next week?

I love living in this land called Malaysia and calling myself a Malaysian (especially when I'm abroad) - even though I know these are only ephemeral terms of reference. After all, when I was born there wasn't a "Malaysia" on any map. This country was called Malaya; and before that, in the time of Ptolemy, it was known as the Golden Khersonese. If you're into esoteric studies you might even regard this blessed and bountiful land as part of a long-lost continent called Kumari Kandam.


From the paleontological perspective, the Malayan Peninsula was once part of a gigantic mountain range, the lower parts of which became submerged at the end of the last glacial period, disconnecting it from neighboring peaks that now form the islands of the Malay Archipelego.
Contrary to Umno propaganda, Malaya wasn't named for the fictitious Malay race, but was inspired by the Tamil word for mountain, "malai." Interestingly, the Sanskrit name "Himalaya" comes from "hima" (snow) and "alaya" (abode) - but it could also mean "snowcapped mountains." In other words, the fact that my country of birth was once called Malaya doesn't actually mean it belongs to the Malays, whom the Orang Asli regard as pendatang or dagang (migrants or itinerant traders). Indeed, a thorough study of history reveals extensive Hindu and Buddhist influence when it was part of the Srivijaya - and later the Majapahit - empires.

The fictitious Malay race was supposed to have originated from Jambi, Sumatra, but you won't find any tribe called “Malay” there - although there is reportedly a river called Melayu that runs through a tiny village of the same name in the vicinity of Jambi.

A Singaporean friend once joked that the word "melayu" means "to flee or migrate" - suggesting that Sumatrans who fought tribal wars and lost had to flee across the Straits of Melaka and henceforth were called Melayu (fugitives or migrants). I have yet to find any confirmation for this. According to my tattered kamus (dictionary) "layu" means "to wither, droop, or dry up." So even if I were born Melayu, I'd prefer to be called Malaysian, fictitious though the name be (at least it has fewer negative connotations).

I remember once chatting with a couple of Filipinas whom I had earlier overheard yakking away in Tagaloq. The word malaya came up a couple of times, so I asked the girls what it means in their tongue. “Free,” one of them said. “Malaya means free in Tagaloq.” My ears perked up. “You mean free as in free gift... or free as in not owing the bank any money?” The girls laughed and said malaya means free as in having no master. Now that’s a very nice meaning of Malaya, I thought.

It’s quite possible that the Tamil word "malai" (mountain) became associated with the Tagaloq "malaya" (freedom) because lowlanders have traditionally been subject to institutionalized religion, government and taxation - whereas highlanders are usually safe from the grubby, grasping fingers of priests and princes, owing to the inaccessibility of their habitat. In any case, I’d be very happy to be called Malayan – a free spirit.

My point is: it really doesn't matter what fictitious name we choose to call ourselves. What truly matters is whether we feel a soul connection to the land we have chosen to call home. Because it is precisely how profoundly we love the land that separates true people from pestiliential lifeforms.

All indigenous peoples have a psychic and emotional bond with the land where their ancestors' bones are buried. They feel a powerful sense of belonging to the land - not so much a claim of "ownership" through legal or illegal means.

Then there are those descended from piratic tribes who have yet to grow a real root wherever they roam in search of plunder - for they feel no spiritual affinity with the land and are only there as opportunists, to rape and steal and ultimately destroy. These are the ones who wouldn't think twice about clear-felling an entire mountain range just to build a few condos, or poisoning the waterways with their relentless search for precious metals.

For the descendants of pirates it's eat, drink and be merry - before we get caught and sent to the gallows. Can you imagine the scenario for disaster when descendants of pirates end up marrying indigenous princesses and elevating themselves to public office? With no real love for the land they see everything around them as a chance to enrich themselves - and so they behave like greedy caterpillars, gorging themselves off the fat of the land, and stopping short of metamorphosing into butterflies.



Being a pirate is a state of mind. You can be a scion of ancient "nobility" like the Bushes, Clintons and Rockefellers - and still fly the Skull & Bones. After all, traditional aristocracies were really just a bunch of brigands and buccaneers in fancy costumes. Those who fought well and brought back lots of booty for the local warlord were rewarded with parcels of land and titles and named Orang Kaya or Baron or Duke.


During the Mahathir era, the entire machinery of state propaganda was harnessed to indoctrinate the masses with a spurious notion of "development." It was indeed a false glamor, a grand illusion of "success" copied & pasted from the pages of glossy lifestyle magazines.

What our Great Leader Dr M sold us was a false vision - a nicely giftwrapped Pandora's Box of environmental, social and moral problems. But it paid big fat commissions to his family and to his Umnoputera cronies; and it entrenched corporate piracy as a way of life.

So... what bright ideas can I contribute towards "a better Malaysia"? First of all, nothing will change "for the better" until Umno/BN is no longer in power. If the new Pakatan Rakyat government is genuinely open to feedback, it will be our task to reassess our priorities and make our wishes known to them. Do we desire to be truly happy, healthy, wealthy, and wise? Or do we keep going for the Monopoly money and the glitter of fool's gold, enthralled by flickering neon signs and colorful festoons of flashing lights?


What the global financial meltdown offers us is an opportunity to wean ourselves off our addiction to crass consumerism. We can then redirect our attention to the mental and emotional aspects of our development, for so long neglected as we set our focus on the purely physical meaning of growth. We will as a nation regain a sense of perspective wherein we can once again feel a soul connection to the land, and learn to love what's natural and real and truly aligned with life.
A whole generation of unmitigated Malaysia-Bolehism has inflated the national ego to colossal proportions. Look at the phallic skyline of Kuala Lumpur and the gargantuan architecture of Putrajaya – it speaks volumes about a massive inferiority complex, a cultural cringe for which we have been overcompensating.

The Orang Asli have survived for millennia and can show us how to be humble. Our Mahathiritic attempt to “conquer” Mother Nature is like ludah ke langit (spitting at the sky). We end up with spittle in our own eye. Chief Minister Taib Mahmud, take note, and abandon your 13 dam projects in Sarawak. Inviting Chinese (or Tasmanian) contractors to rape the ecosystem isn’t such a clever thing to do – no matter how much money your family can skim off these environmentally disastrous projects. Remember, when earthquakes hit Szechuan, the Chinese had to evacuate millions of people downstream because dangerous cracks appeared in hundreds of large dams.

Abdullah Badawi recently made a big fuss over the upside-down Malaysian flag on Sheih Kickdefella’s blog and used that as an excuse to get the blogger arrested. The flag is only a symbol of the fictitious Malaysia. Why get worked up over mere symbols?

If you really love the land that supports and sustains you, you wouldn’t ever pollute the rivers or denude the mountains.


It’s very easy to mistake the map for the territory. You may destroy as many maps as you want – we can always make more accurate, more detailed ones – but don’t destroy the only thing that’s real, the land where your ancestors’ bones are buried.

"Progress might have been all right once, but it has gone on too long." ~ Ogden Nash

[First published 12 October 2008, reposted 16 September 2012 & 19 September 2019]

HAPPY MALAYSIA DAY!

Five Years After 2012: Are We All Going Crazy? ~ by Flemming Funch (written in October 2017)

Pointless by Cosmic Rapture

A NUMBER OF YEARS AGO, I started observing/believing/predicting that our human experience was quickening, and that the rules were changing, in somewhat predictable ways, as things speed up. A metaphorical way of talking about it would be that we were passing through successive "dimensions", each one with different rules. It wasn't my original idea in any way, but I latched on to it, and wrote a few blog posts about it.

One of the key points is that various kinds of things (emotions, thoughts, difficult situations) will come up for people, and need to be dealt with and somehow "processed" on an individual basis, in order to make it to the next level. It would be a moving target. As soon as you find your peace with things, another layer is peeled off, and you need to figure out how to deal with that. You have to keep up with what life throws at you. Now, if you don't deal with things, if you don't pay attention or if you don't bother to do the required personal intellectual or emotional work, you'll be in trouble. Basically, if you keep denying what is going on for you, and you don't do anything about it, or you do the wrong things, you end up going insane.

Back then, I had gone along with the spurious prediction that something big and cataclysmic would happen in 2012. The end of the Mayan calendar and that kind of stuff. Seemed like that might be the deadline for entering the 5th dimension, or whatever exactly it is. Well, 2012 came and went, and nothing really dramatic happened. But well, even if the expected timing was a bit off, it did more or less happen. It is now 2017, and an alarmingly large percentage of the population seems to have gone insane. That should be visible both in the news, on social media, and among people you know personally.

A lot of people are out of their skulls panicking, succumbing to their neuroses, fighting invisible enemies, feeling targeted and victimized by evil forces, freaking out daily about the latest thing they heard, and seemingly having no tools left for rational thinking or for finding their own peace. Some people only do it once in a while, some apparently do it 24/7. Either way, they just can't. deal. with. it. Unfortunately, if they don't, it will only get worse.

Whereas, for people who successfully deal with what is thrown at them, things get better. Currently it might be hard to see, as we could say that we're going through a period of at least metaphorical darkness.

Whether it is entirely clear yet or not, people have picked different ways of dealing with it. The people who are going crazy have maybe not picked very well, and not very consciously, but they have picked. If they simply continue to panic more and more, they'll find themselves increasingly in hell. Whereas the people who've managed to keep their sanity will, once the fog clears, more likely find that new and better things are emerging, and there are paths forward, and they know what to do.

How it will look, with those drastically different kinds of realities co-existing, I'm not sure. Maybe they will part ways in some manner that I can't quite imagine. Droves of people committing mass-suicide, because they can't handle the noise in their heads and the pain in their hearts, I don't know.

Oh, and to not make it too bleak, there's always a choice. Particularly for people who get a little of each, who go a bit crazy once in a while, but who then find themselves. We're all a little nuts, so that's pretty normal.

Flemming Funch

5 October 2017

[First posted 5 October 2017]

The Road to Isengard... (revised & revisited)

In Tolkien's classic Lord of the Rings, we see the rustic charm of Hobbit culture theatened with extinction by the encroaching forces of industrialism and militarism, represented by the ceaseless clangor of Isengard (literally, Iron Fortress) under the misrule of the renegade wizard Saruman and his vicious, mindless Orc army.

In Malaysia the closest thing we have to Hobbit culture are the Orang Asli and their deep connection with their verdant ancestral lands. Substitute Saruman with Rais Saniman, Razak Hussein and their Umnoputra technocrats - and we have Mahathir's ominous Vision 2020, which threatens to transform the entire country into one sprawling Silicon Valley devoid of natural vegetation and free-ranging wildlife.


As I write this, the Civil Defence Army is encamped on the open field at the end of Pertak Village. A few days ago the regular army was here too for a one-day exercise in jungle warfare. At night the noise of generators and the glare of fluorescent lights are a grim reminder of the savage stupidity and gross insensitivity of the Orc mindset. Sweet, innocent young men and women are being turned into a robot army serving Sauron's cold-blooded reptilian design.

The incursion of low-grade consciousness into this high-grade environment can be traced to what happened in September 2010, when BN-aligned businessmen initiated a land grab disguised as an infrastructural upgrading project. They spent RM200,000 tarring a "road to nowhere."

The Orang Asli elders I met when I first relocated to Pertak in 1992 possessed residual traces of natural wisdom and they remembered their own tribal myths. Most of them have since passed on, returned to Pulau Buah (the Isle of Fruits or Paradise). The present generation of Orang Asli grew up watching RTM dramas and TV3 news. Not a single Orang Asli household in Pertak Village had access to the Internet until the era of the smartphone. They are, like Felda settlers, constantly subject to government propaganda via their TV sets which serve as the altars from which latter-day peasants may worship the false god of progress.

And "progress" - no thanks to mercenary contractors better at destruction than construction - has indeed come to Pertak Village in the form of speedbumps, streetlights, traffic signs, and cat's eyes embedded in a bitumenized showcase road.


The Chinese bamboo contractor used to send his lorry in to pick up bamboo three or four times a month. Of late the lorry has been roaring through the forest spewing diesel fumes, spoiling the tranquility of the morning, churning up and dropping big chunks of mud, almost every day. Bamboo grows extremely fast, it's true, but I doubt it can survive the present frenetic rate of overharvesting. In a couple of years, with the bamboo groves reduced to stumps, the forest will start losing more and more topsoil, and hillslopes will crumble.

Azreen Zainuddin (photo by Shane Nunis)

Even though they are being grossly exploited by the towkay - who only pays them RM1 (USD22 cents) per 20-foot length - the Orang Asli seem glad to be earning more cash these days. But most of their income goes towards modifying their motorbikes (to make them noisier) and pickling their brains with cheap plonk at RM3 a bottle. Alcoholism has taken a steep turn for the worse since one of the villagers started selling bottled spirits from her house. In the old days they had to travel 8 miles to town to replenish their supply of alcohol - now it's just a 2-minute stagger down the road.

With increased drunkenness comes increased aggression and violence. The younger males have succumbed to the slimy, nefarious influence of JAKOA, the Orang Asli Affairs Department, now essentially an extension of JAKIM (the overfunded Islamic Inquisition) who constantly remind them that they are materially backward compared to other races - and that the only way they can integrate with the modern world is to join forces with their Malay Muslim brothers against the kaum pendatang (migrant communities like the Chinese, Indian, Eurasian and Caucasians).

In recent years there have been more cases of cats and dogs being poisoned or slashed to death by villagers. Overindulgence in alcohol makes the Orang Asli susceptible to temporary bouts of demonic possession during which the most brutal, ignoble and violent aspects of their personalities emerge. This is a crucial part of the insidious work of the JAKOA - to enfeeble the Orang Asli psyche and make them easy prey for government propaganda. Of course, free meals and cash incentives are an important ingredient in the long-term plan to destroy Orang Asli culture and assimilate them into the lowest strata of mainstream Malay society.

Since 3 April 2009, when Najib Razak was appointed crime minister and his ambitious wife Rosmah achieved her dream of becoming the uncrowned Queen of Putrajaya, the psychic atmosphere throughout the country has tangibly deteriorated. A dark cloud of despair and pessimism hangs over the land. Envy, hostility and resentment have further divided communities resulting in greater discord within families. It is as if the soul of the land has been poisoned.

A nation ruled by voodoo can never attain peace, prosperity and harmony. When people no longer know the meaning of integrity and dignity - and lose all reverence for the sanctity of the natural landscape - you can be sure it is headed towards Isengard, a powerful metaphor for hell on earth.

Many continue to do battle against this evil on the political front - but it is a seemingly futile struggle as their own comrades succumb one by one to the poison and turn treacherous. We see this happening with increasing frequency amongst the Harapan Rakyat coalition, especially in the ranks of PAS and Parti Keadilan Rakyat.

Do we give up the ghost and surrender to Sauron? Never! The unbridled lust for money and power is the seed of darkness and deviousness found within each individual who cannot see beyond his or her own physical survival. We have to acknowledge that "evil" is an integral component of our own psyches - it is really just our own id - and the only way we can transcend our own ignoble tendencies is to become whole by embracing a holistic perspective.

We must gain sufficient spiritual maturity to be able to view even the nastiest miscreants as wayward children. The way to deal with wayward children is not to fear or hate them - but to grow into our own adulthood and firmly prevent them from further harming themselves and others. It matters not what game these wayward kids are playing - some are posing as ministers, some as sultans, and others as police officers and triad bosses. Those of us who have the capacity to comprehend the greater evolutionary plan must now step into our full power as Awakened, Conscious Humans focused on realizing our own divine destinies as fractal embodiments of Supreme Intelligence, Love and Wisdom.

In other words, we must reclaim our original sovereignty as kings and queens in exile and accept the scepter of our spiritual power as divine humans. Only the noblest and wisest among us must be allowed to ascend the throne of worldly authority.

That's how we can all get off the road to Isengard and get back on track to manifesting heaven on earth.

[First posted 15 October 2010. Reposted 18 June 2014, 23 May 2015 & 18 September 2016]

Steve Hillage: From Hurdy Gurdy Man To Techno-Trance Wizard (repost)

Steve Hillage's "Hurdy Gurdy Man" - Live at Otto Hahn Schule, Benberg, 1977

I first came to know of Steve Hillage when he was part of the incomparable and indestructible Gong, circa 1973. Noted for his ethereal, bluesy, ecstatically lyrical guitarwork and near lightspeed arpeggios (which someone described as "paint blistering"), Hillage also had a distinctly angelic aura that made him look and sound like a funky Jesus on acid.

When he began producing solo albums, Hillage brought part of the trance-inducing Gong sound with him - but focused more on the metaphysical and theosophical elements rather than on the pataphysical.

While with Gong he met and connected with Miquette Giraudy (synth and vocals). Steve and Miquette have been partners and collaborators since those heady days with Gong. They have been featured guests on many landmark recordings, among the most notable of which is undoubtedly Cyrille Verdeaux's 1975 epic, Clearlight Symphony.

In the late 1970s and early 1980s, musical trends moved towards punk and lounge lizard chic - and Steve Hillage found himself producing younger bands like Simple Minds and Murray Head.

By 1989, Hillage and Giraudy had begun jamming with DJs and techno-trance music producers. They enjoyed it enough to form a group called System 7 (inspired by the Macintosh Operating System then in vogue) which focuses on techno-trance and ambient dance music augmented by live musicians. They also have a record company called A-wave (check out some MP3 samples on their site). Click here for a complete discography.


Activation Meditation: The Glorious OM Riff

Steve Hillage and Miquette Giraudy (System 7 live at the Sonic Rock Festival, Lincolnshire, 2005)


Musick of the Trees (1978)

Giraudy & Hillage: Why get married
when you can make beautiful music together


[First posted 24 June 2007, reposted 28 August 2017]

Musings on the momentous date, August 31st... (repost)

The Nuclear Family in 2013

Every time August 31st rolls around I am reminded of two things. The more significant event of the two, of course, is my very first fuck.

At 14 or 15 I was still wearing stripes & checks

I mean, with a woman. A digression is necessary: you see, at 15 I had ventured, with a few classmates, to Singapore's infamous Bugis Street, where we had decided to collectively put paid to our virginity. The middle-aged hooker I engaged for my initiation into malehood looked fairly attractive in the low-wattage lighting, but when we removed our clothes I noticed she possessed a rudimentary penis. She seemed enthusiastic enough - and who wouldn't be delighted to get paid to fiddle around with a cute 15-year-old, unless they're compulsive virtue-signalers? The scientist in me took charge of the situation and decided that an experience is, after all, an experience.

Besides, I didn't have the nerve to demand my money back and couldn't afford to go shopping elsewhere. After some 20 minutes of awkward fumbling around I thanked "her" and got dressed. I didn't ask my friends if they had had a similar "initiation." We were all too embarrassed by the whole excursion and never spoke about it again.

Beloved mother of my two lovely girls

Coming back to my first fuck. For three whole years I had been courting a feisty, flirtatious femme two years my senior. We maintained an increasingly passionate and playful correspondence while she was at university and I was in New Jersey as an exchange student. Upon my return in early August 1968, she wrote and told me she would be in Singapore on a geography field trip and would be free on August 31st to meet me for a hot date.

Now why does Singapore feature so prominently in every erotic initiation I can recall? Could it be the Merlion Singapore has chosen as its national totem, which combines Leonine and Piscean qualities - masculine rationality (lion) with feminine intuition (dolphin)?

Soulful reunion in 2016

Well, the date August 31st will always symbolize a pivotal moment in my life, a rite of passage, when I not only experienced the exquisite pleasure of being fully plugged into the sacred feminine, the holy of holies, but also claimed my adulthood by becoming a father to my first daughter.

Which explains why my earlier plan to study filmmaking in UCLA, California, had to be scuttled. But 25 years down the line, my second daughter graduated summa cum laude from TCU, Texas, with a filmmaking degree. She also fulfilled my desire to marry a German and produce gorgeous babies, but that's another story.

So for me the 31st of August will always represent a major life initiation, totally unexpected but gratefully embraced. How could I not rejoice to be father of two exceptionally beautiful, honest, and accomplished women who have bestowed quintuple datukships on me?

All grown up, my beautiful girls & their amazing mama

Daughter #1 with her 2 sweeties

As for the other thing, national independence, I must confess I have been indelibly imprinted with the thoughts of Kurt Vonnegut who introduced me to Bokononism in his 1963 novel, Cat's Cradle, wherein he distinguished between two categories of social bonding: the Granfalloon and the Karass. (I suggest you read Gregory Macnamee's instructive essay "On Vonnegut's Karass vs. Granfalloon" for a fuller understanding of this important distinction.) If you can't be bothered to look it up, I shall attempt to paraphrase Vonnegut's definition of a Granfalloon - which is precisely what every nation-state, football club, old boys' association, or ethnic grouping actually is: an assembly of humans drawn together by a common delusion - that there is "strength in numbers" and that people can feel united through loyalty to some corporate brand name or logo.

A Karass, on the other hand, is what Vonnegut calls a true soul family, drawn together by natural affinities and a deep sense of kinship beyond appearances and ideological constructs.

Daughter #2 with her 3 sweeties

It goes without saying that I have never been fond of Granfalloons nor will I ever be. Therefore the thought of celebrating something as meaningless as a brand name (Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, Great Britain, America, Estonia, Afghanistan, Transylvania) and a corporate logo (Jalur Gemilang, Stars and Stripes or Union Jack) simply makes me chortle till I churn up some loose spittle or awaken a clump of mucus from its slumber.

Go ahead, folks, and wave those plastic flags. It really makes no difference to me if they are emblazoned with a giant M (for Mahathir, Mekdi or McDonald's), a cluster of stars, a few stripes, a maple leaf, a stylized axolotl, or a Mandelbrot Set. Corporations and corporate-states are essentially social engineering constructs, ant-colonies, beehives, designed to gather and accumulate energy (the sweet stuff) for those who commissioned and invested in the project. They may appear to be almighty, indomitable, and indestructibly totalitarian - until you catch a glimpse of colossal ruins such as you will find in Göbekli Tepe, Egypt, Rome, Cambodia, Peru. And here I am reminded of visionary historian William Irwin Thompson's classic observation:

"Civilizations, like the penis, rise and fall, and when the towers and battlements crumble into the earth, they return to the embrace of the Great Mother."

Antares Maitreya

31 August 2019

[First posted 31 August 2019]

Merdeka Message from My #2 Daughter (repost)

Photo by Marcus 

"HAPPY INNER PENANCE DAY TO ALL!"

Received this text message from my #2 daughter Belle on the eve of Merdeka. When I asked her if it was a Belle original, she immediately replied, "Of course!" Just felt like sharing this meaningful Merdeka message with all my friends and loved ones 😂❤️👌

[Originally posted 31 August 2009]

Eckhart Tolle's POWER OF NOW animated summary

Published June 6, 2020

The Power of Now, by Eckhart Tolle - The concepts in this book can come across as very simple, but don’t let that trick you into dismissing them without any contemplation. These concepts, although simple, are profound. The Power of Now gets into some deep stuff that needs to be reflected on way beyond a short video summary. With that said, keep an open mind going into this. You may get an initial reaction to resist what this book teaches, but just put your opinions and judgments to the side for a few minutes and consider the possibilities. 

Wisdom for Life

Just a harmless bit of reminiscing with Uncle Frank...

THE OCEAN IS THE ULTIMATE SOLUTION... turn up the volume!

Illinois Enema Bandit (Frank Zappa, 1976)

The Illinois Enema Bandit
I heard he's on the loose
I heard he's on the loose
Lord, the pitiful screams
Of all them college-educated women...
Boy, he'd just be tyin' 'em up
(They'd be all bound down!)
Just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
The Illinois Enema Bandit
I heard it on the news
I heard it on the news

Bloomington Illinois... he has caused some alarm
Just sneakin' around there
From farm to farm
Got a rubberized bag
And a hose on his arm
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump

The Illinois Enema Bandit
One day he'll have to pay
One day he'll have to pay
The police will say, "You're under arrest!"
And the judge would have him for a special guest
The D.A. will order a secret test
And stuff his pudgy little thumbs in the side of his vest
Then they'll put out a call for the jury folks
And the judge would say, "No poo-poo jokes!"
Then they'll drag in the bandit for all to see,
Sayin' "Don't nobody have no sympathy...
HOT SOAP WATER in the FIRST DEGREE!"
And then the bandit might say, "Why is everybody looking' at me?"
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS KINDA MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
Now, one girl shout: "Let the Bandit be!"
BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY?
BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY? TELL ME NOW, WHAT'S
YOUR PLEA?
Another girl shout: "Let the fiend go free!"
ARE YOU GUILTY? BANDIT, DID YOU DO THESE DEEDS?
The Bandit say, "It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."

The police will say, "You're under arrest!"
And the judge would have him for a special guest
The D.A. will order a secret test
And stuff his pudgy little thumbs in the side of his vest
Then they'll put out a call for the jury folks
And the judge would say, "No poo-poo jokes!"
Then they'll drag in the bandit for all to see,
Sayin' "Don't nobody have no sympathy...
HOT SOAP WATER in the FIRST DEGREE!"
And then the bandit might say, "Why is everybody looking' at me?"
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS KINDA MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
Now, one girl shout: "Let the Bandit be!"
BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY?
BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY? TELL ME NOW, WHAT'S
YOUR PLEA?
Another girl shout: "Let the fiend go free!"
ARE YOU GUILTY? BANDIT, DID YOU DO THESE DEEDS?
The Bandit say, "It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."


[This post was inspired by a facebook comment left by Solo Goodspeed - check him out, he's veritably the Return of the Son of Monster Magnet! First uploaded 8 October 2012, reposted 15 August 2015]

Umno, you are hereby sentenced to death by ridicule (again!)

PLEASE DON'T OFFEND ME...
I'M A REAL SENSITIVE GUY!

I was alerted by a facebook message from a friend that my blog had been blocked. True enough, I discovered Umno cybertroopers had been at it again!

Fuckwits. Bodoh betul!

YOU DON'T HAVE A CLUE WHAT FORCES YOU'RE DEALING WITH.

Try your nonsense one more time and I shall

DELETE YOUR PAST AND YOUR FUTURE.

I kid you not.


[First posted 12 August 2009]

Oh Yes I Support Malaysian Authors 😍 (repost)

May Lee (a well-named marketing executive at MPH) welcomes me to the
Malaysian Authors' High Tea at MPH 1 Utama

Whenever I manage to get a book published I'm fashionable for at least six months. I've been getting invites from MPH to appear in the Merdeka issue of Quill, their in-house magazine; last Saturday there was this forum hosted by MPH on where Malaysia's book industry is heading (don't know why, but the word "industry" makes me shudder).

And next week (3-4 PM on Sunday, September 9th) I'll be giving a short talk on "Mythology in the Digital Age" at MPH Mid-Valley (to which everybody is cordially invited - pick up a copy of Tanah Tujuh and I'll happily scribble on the title page!)

At Saturday's Malaysian Authors Forum I found myself sitting behind Rehman Rashid, whom I hadn't seen in... well, quite a while.

Rehman was his usual larger-than-life comic-book Titan self. It was good to see somebody familiar in that room full of unknown faces (quite a few very prettily framed in designer hijabs). Maybe there are more Malaysians writing books than those actually reading them?

First-time novelist Kam Raslan was conspicuously absent - but I guess his book is doing well enough (a brilliant read, by the way, if you haven't picked up a copy of Confessions of an Old Boy: The Dato' Hamid Adventures).

There was talk of getting all Malaysian authors to form themselves into a guild. Apparently this may be the only way we'll ever break through the protective walls surrounding the literary game in the UK and the US (where the big money presumably is). Only as a organized collective will Malaysian authors have sufficient clout to set up their own literary agency and send representatives to hobnob with the movers and shakers. That's roughly what it takes to break into the global book market, according to those in the know.

I'm not much of a joiner myself - and I doubt if many writers are. Writing books is pretty much the domain of solitary types who enjoy the quietude and tranquility of the graveyard shift. Even if we do manage, out of pure self-interest, to assemble all at once and form ourselves into the semblance of a guild, it's almost a foregone conclusion that the administrative aspects will have to be farmed out to more pragmatic minds. In the end, the writers guild will most likely be hijacked by the few natural-born hustlers amongst us who get a real buzz out of entrepreneurial exertions.

In any case I can't help wondering what a Malaysian - brought up to be polite and face-giving and acutely conscious of other people's sensitivities - might have to say to the world at large. Since we've been told from a tender age never to use swear words or make fun of others - and that it's an absolute no-no to ever speak ill of VVIPs or even mention crooked judges and corrupt ministers - will we end up churning out cook book after cook book? After all, food is undeniably our unifying passion.

That's right, in Malaysia we're very good at cari makan - not cari makna!*

And yet, Malaysians have gained worldwide notoriety for three things: destroying forests by exporting loggers, committing credit card fraud with impunity, and using abusive language and venting unmitigated rage on web forums. Maybe e-publishing is what we ought to stick with?

Literary blogger Chet accosted me while I was assuaging my hunger with a few hastily swallowed curry puffs and introduced me to a svelte young lady named Choong Kwee Kim who recently published her first illustrated children's book - Ah Fu, The Rickshaw Coolie. What to do, I had to buy a copy for my grandson Max who turned seven on August 28th. Of course, I read it before wrapping it up. Excellent drawings, lovely story, Kwee Kim, very well done indeed!

-----------
*Trans: cari makan = look for food (earn our keep); cari makna = look for meaning (quest for self-knowledge)

[First posted 30 August 2007]

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat by Edward Lear (1812~1888)

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea

   In a beautiful pea-green boat:

They took some honey, and plenty of money

   Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

The Owl looked up to the stars above,

   And sang to a small guitar,

"O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love,

   What a beautiful Pussy you are,

            You are,

            You are!

   What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl,

   How charmingly sweet you sing!

Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried,

   But what shall we do for a ring?"

They sailed away, for a year and a day,

To the land where the bong-tree grows;

And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,

   With a ring at the end of his nose,

            His nose,

            His nose,

   With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling

   Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."

So they took it away, and were married next day

   By the turkey who lives on the hill.

They dined on mince and slices of quince,

   Which they ate with a runcible spoon;

And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,

   They danced by the light of the moon,

            The moon,

            The moon,

   They danced by the light of the moon.

ANWAR: A MAN OF EXTRAORDINARY DESTINY (repost)

It never ceases to amaze me when perfectly intelligent folk keep parroting unoriginal notions acquired from coffeeshop gossip and loose talk over a few beers. How many times have I been told by those supposedly in the know that “Anwar can’t be trusted. He’s a chameleon.”

Dammit… look at that bunch of utter nincompoops strutting around the corridors of power today: anal-retentive Umno stereotypes like Abdullah Badawi, Najib Razak, Tengku Adnan Tengku Mansor, Syed Hamid Albar, Muhammad Muhammad Taib, and Khir Toyo… DO YOU TRUST THESE CREATURES? They can’t even speak in public without sounding like robots or reading from scripts! Anwar is human and passionate and you can sense a burning intelligence in his eyes.

Okay, back in the mid-1970s when I first read about this hotheaded leader of ABIM (Muslim Youth Movement), I went ho-hum. Back then Anwar Ibrahim was your archetypal ethnocentric nationalist sporting the mujahideen goatee - but at least he was outspoken on issues affecting the rural poor, and that got him into jail. Seeing his leadership potential, Mahathir persuaded Anwar to join Umno and got him spewing forth the expected foam about bangsa and ugama. I confess that in 1989 I actually did a caricature of him and labeled it "Anal Ibrim" little suspecting that within a decade Anwar would be plagued by that very word. And I'm still troubled by a rumor I once heard, naming Anwar Ibrahim as the minister who came up with the wicked idea to convert the dysfunctional Jabatan Hal Ehwal Orang Asli (Orang Asli Affairs Department) into a tool for converting the Orang Asli to Islam and assimilating them into the Malay mainstream.

Well, I don't know if there's any truth to that accusation - but even if it were true, that was back in 1990, and the man has suffered six years in prison for that reprehensible gaffe. You could say Anwar has paid all his karmic dues. Let's delete Anwar's slightly murky past when he was Umno deputy president and Dr M's hand-picked protégé, and take a closer look at what happened around the time of the currency depreciation in mid-1997. A bunch of young Turks in Umno were pushing Anwar to the forefront as a potential heir to the throne, goading him to attack Mahathir on the corruption front, the old man's weak underbelly. The Mamak didn't like that one bit - and neither did his former finance minister, Daim Zainuddin. Anwar was given the option to hand in his resignation - or face extreme vilification and political damnation.

Anwar, unlike other DPMs, refused to yield to Mahathir’s awesome might and megalomaniacal ego. Anwar fought back when he could have cut his losses by taking up a diplomatic or academic post abroad, returning quietly to the Umno fold a few years later like Musa Hitam.

On September 2nd, 1998, Anwar Ibrahim underwent a radical transformation from Umno bigwig to political renegade - he literally took on the mantle of a messianic cult hero when Malaysia urgently required one. I’ve watched him closely since his sacking and subsequent arrest - and he has performed impeccably as a spiritual warrior and icon of righteous resistance. Over six years of incarceration Anwar maintained his dignity, focus, perseverance and humanity - and that’s when the beautiful, strong women in his life rose to the occasion.

No man who has seen his wife and daughter go through so much on his behalf would ever behave like a male chauvinist pig; he would have a healthy respect for the feminine principle. This is what I see in Anwar and that is why I have publicly hailed him as Malaysia’s best hope at this critical juncture in our political evolution.

Anwar has every quality that marks him as a man of extraordinary destiny. I trust him as much as I trust myself - and because I fear him not, I would walk up to him and tell him to his face if ever I felt he was turning into a tyrant. As a former victim of Dr M's tyranny, Anwar would never want to go down that ignominious road.

In 2001 while overnighting at a friend's house, I flipped through a copy of Anwar Ibrahim's Asian Renaissance I found in his library. Anwar came across as somebody I could imagine having a damn good conversation with on a one-to-one basis. But what most impressed me and turned my views around on politicians in general and Anwar in particular - was the bibliography at the end of the book which listed - among a broad spectrum of classics including the sublime poetry of Rabindranath Tagore - the Tao Te Ching. Now, anybody who can claim to have read that supreme masterpiece in pithy, organic wisdom is welcome in my household anytime. And if he decides to run for high political office, I'd put my money on him. These are no ordinary times we are living in. Successfully navigating the uncharted political seas immediately ahead calls for an extraordinary helmsman - one who has survived the worst storms!

[Here's an inspiring perspective on Anwar Ibrahim by Charles R. Avila that was uploaded today on Din Merican's blog.]

APPENDIX A

Wednesday, 30 July 2008

THE CORRIDORS OF POWER
Malaysia Today

At 2.30pm on Wednesday, 25 June 2008, Senior Assistant Commissioner (SAC) II Mohd Rodwan Mohd Yusof 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.

Three days later, at 2.00pm on 28 June 2008, Saiful went to see Dr Mohamed Osman Abdul Hamid of the Hospital Pusrawi to ‘complain’ that he had been sodomised by ‘a very important person’ and that he wished to lodge a police report. The doctor, however, found no traces or evidence that he had been sodomised and suggested, for purposes of the police report, that Saiful go to a government hospital.

Who is Rodwan, other than the fact that he works for the IGP and is known as the police chief’s bagman and go-between with the organised crime syndicate that controls all the drugs, prostitution, loan-sharking and gambling rackets? Well, read the following archived reports to get a better understanding of this scumbag and slime-ball named Rodwan. Maybe then you can understand why he met Saiful in a hotel room three days before the sodomy allegation against Anwar Ibrahim exploded.

APPENDIX B

This comment was posted 30 July 2008 on Susan Loone’s blog:

Susan,

I would like to write the following statement in the name of GOD whom I believe.

I am a government doctor in the rank of consultant working in Hospital Kuala Lumpur (HKL). I know personally the doctors who examined Saiful on that day - 28 June 2008.

The so-called medical report mentioned in the NST is a fabrication or imagination by the UMNO paper. There is no such medical report submitted to the polis yet.

When examining Saiful, the specialist could not find any signs of Saiful being sodomised. Saiful was very cheerful, unlike real sodomised patients who will usually be very sad and disturbed.

Saiful was subsequently admitted to the ward and observed for a day. He was completely well in the ward and not emotionally disturbed.

Please let RPK know of this.

Thanks.

[First posted 30 July 2008] 

Two Wolves And A Sheep (reprise)

Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner. - James Bovard, Civil Libertarian (1994)

If you don't read the newspaper you are uninformed; if you do read the newspaper you are misinformed.
- Mark Twain (1835-1910)

Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress... But then I repeat myself. - Mark Twain

The only difference between a tax man and a taxidermist is that the taxidermist leaves the skin. - Mark Twain


There is no distinctly Native American criminal class - save Congress. - Mark Twain


No man's life, liberty, or property is safe while the legislature is in session.
- Mark Twain

Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys. - P.J. O'Rourke


If you think health care is expensive now, wait until you see what it costs when it's free! - P.J. O'Rourke, Civil Libertarian (1947 - )


I contend that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity is like a man standing in a bucket and trying to lift himself up by the handle. - Winston Churchill 


A government which robs Peter to pay Paul can always depend on the support of Paul. - George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)


Foreign aid might be defined as a transfer of money from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries. - Douglas Casey, Classmate of Bill Clinton at Georgetown University (1968)

[This priceless collection of cogent quotes was sent to me by Jane D'Cruz. First posted 14 August 2007]