Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Humility


(Left: picture of Calcutta's late Mother Teresa)

I was at my in-laws' place last weekend and i suddenly became very annoyed at the sight of used tissue papers thrown carelessly about outside the dustbin, papers strewn everywhere and what appeared to me to be the general messiness of the place. Then i started judging my in-laws with some ill-conceived higher "standard" that i felt they didn't measure up to. I was ready to leave their house immediately and go home to where i felt things were cleaner and a better environment for me and my baby daughter. But i didn't take into account the feelings of my wife. This was her home. Her family. Her folks. And i was passing judgment on her when i passed judgment on them. After leaving the house in a hurry and having gone home i thought over things and decided that i had acted rather badly. I called my mom-in-law the next day while i was at work, spoke gently to her and apologised several times eventhough she made as if nothing had transpired other than our leaving her house in a hurry presumably because i was in a hurry to get some chores done. The point is, i had been arrogant and judgmental. Ever since that day and even before that incident i have been scouring the internet in search of the magic word, "Humility". Humility as i understand it is to be aware of one's self-worth and not have others act in ways you would rather they'd act/be. Humility is about self-control as opposed to controlling others. Humility isn't about putting oneself down in Uriah Heep fashion to gain praise approval and accolade from others for feigned modesty but to take oneself as one is, in full and true appreciation of one's weaknesses and flaws and accepting the Will of God. Humility isn't staged. True humility is what makes one acceptable to God. Humility prepares the way for other virtues. Humility endures like the deep blue sea so that anything thrown into it would merely cause a momentary ripple only to be absorbed and incorporated as a part of the greater whole. So as the year draws to a close and i have some time now to reflect on myself, i ask for God's grace to grow in humility and to become a better person than i was in 2009. This entails many many things and i am just starting on this road of transformation and i realize that i will fall along the way many times but i must with the grace of God persevere and continue until i have reached my goal - to grow in humility. To endure all, to embrace all hardships and abuse real or imagined, not to expect others to conform to my thinking of how things should be, but rather to control myself and to change myself. Happy New Year.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

What happened to the Internet we used to know?



Things have a way of creeping up on you unawares in this here our good old Malaysia. Like how the internet has changed since its introduction to Malaysia in the early 90s to what it is today. www.yahoo.com has become m.www.yahoo.com while www.google.com has become www.google.com.my in the last couple of years (or less if memory does not serve me incorrectly). So while we haven't had full-scale censorship YET, the fact is that with these changes the government can very easily impose censorship a la China. Maybe at first they will cite pornography as an excuse to crack down on the internet. Then after that, "National Security" or whatever excuse they can think of to get their hands on the only channel of freedom we have left in Malaysia. You see, they can censor local newspapers and magazines by threatening not to renew publishing licenses. Even the Catholic Herald was threatened of all publications. But they cannot censor the internet as easily. Well, until now. They can now. I'm betting it is only a matter of time before they pull the plug on the internet. And by golly, do they ever have a thousand reasons not to allow free and unfettered discussion of their policies and actions! Imagine Malaysia being subject to censorship over the internet as China now does. Your search engines will be blocked from accessing "sensitive" sites or whatever is deemed by the authorities to be unpalatable to them and theirs. I remember the internet when it was first introduced, what a beautiful place it was what pleasure to surf, i could browse on any subject, look up on any information, get views and opinions on any subject under heaven. Old Mahathir guaranteed that our internet would be free of censorship. Fast forward 15 years later and the multi media super corridor is almost non-existent, nobody is pouring in money into developing Malaysia's IT industry and so the reason for keeping the internet free, ie. to attract foreign FDIs into Malaysia have all but disappeared. Now slowly i am seeing the internet getting monetised in all its facets and coming in the government's cross hairs for censorship. They may deny it, but don't be surprised if what you search for doesn't come up on screen cos some bureaucratic pen pusher decided it was for your own good. We are already seeing this happening now. Censorship kills independent thought. It is the tool a regime resorts to to stifle dissent and perpetuate its lies. Without questions being asked, without probing, without checks and balances, they can get away with anything. And they have gotten away with quite a lot already, haven't they?

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Burn baby burn



We live in the Age of the Gloss. Form over substance, appearance over content. Nothing is what it seems. The government speaks in doublespeak we cannot trust our institutions our leaders lie. We must scrutinise, examine and do due diligence or be prepared to be SHAFTED. Words are just words, lip service is easy, no one gives a Good God Damned so long as the party and the music plays on. Hey Maestro, let the good times roll! Then someone whispered: "we live in steadily coarsening times, bro". This is not just because people do not care anymore or they're just too tired to care. The culture glosses over everything. Instant gratification instant oats instant love instant sex, you see it on TV (I keep switching channels but one show isn't very much different from another). Lift up the carpet and you'll see a writhing pile of maggots feasting on the decayed bloated corpses of Prime Ministers past. Blue veins pop all over their dead pale decomposed skins like a dead man's body floating on the river in the hot afternoon sun. When the man dies, let him be cremated in a giant funeral pyre. No Worms, i hear. Fire cleanses, fire purifies everything. Prometheus' gift to mankind it's the BEST.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

a fool and his money are soon...



...PARTED! I am by nature an easy-going person. I like to do things in my own time, unhurried and maybe dilly-dally when I can. However, when it comes to buying stuff, i am always in a hurry. I don't really know why. Yesterday i went out on another matter and along the way i saw this new baby shop opened along the coastal highway that a salesgirl from another shop had recommended to me in glowing terms. Once inside i was disappointed for i had been led to believe that this shop would have most products anyone would need for babies. This one was in fact poorly-lit and looked like a small shop. Behind the counter was a pleasant Malay lady and her 2 -year old daughter. I asked for breast milk storage bottles and she showed me what her shop stocked. I looked at her product and immediately knew that this wasn't what my wife had in mind when she asked me to buy some breastmilk storage bottles. But against my best instincts and seeing as there was nary a customer in that shop, seeing that lady and her little girl and that little shop, i was moved to buy something from her to support her little business. And so i bought the product and sure enough later that night my wife having examined and opened the package told me that she couldn't use it. The storage cups were too wide/impractical and the mouth wouldn't fit in with the breast pump she was using. Incidents such as these have happened to me before and yet i never seem to learn. I'm a lousy shopper, I admit. Only i hardly shop for stuff other than books for myself and some clothes come the Chinese New Year. I do not have the eye for good products but i do know instinctively when something is a bad deal. And yet i go ahead and buy it for all the wrong reasons. This made me feel really stupid and small last night. My wife told me that money was hard to earn and i couldn't agree more with her. It wasn't a lot of money, but it was a bad deal. Is it because spending money makes one feel good? Shopping for relief? I thought that only happened to women. I'm like a deer surrounded by lions whenever i go out in search of something to buy. Very bad decisions. I need the gift of discernment in this. It is a real puzzle to me why i do some things the way i do them. Human beings can be irrational but surely we learn from our mistakes? What the heck is the matter with me??

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Sugar is bad for you so let's raise its price



The funny thing about the government's latest proposal to do away with sugar subsidies (over RM720 million a year to maintain the price of coarse sugar at RM1.45 per kilo) is that it was something i had expected after reading the news not less than a month ago, that former Sugar King Robert Kuok's Perlis Plantations Berhad had disposed off all its sugar making business/lands in Malaysia to Felda. I thought at the time that the government must SURELY let go of sugar price controls and let Felda raise the price of sugar. Otherwise, how was Felda going to make its sugar-making business profitable? After decades of controlling the price of the sweet stuff and not budging to even allow sugar manufacturers to raise prices by a lousy 5 sen, as soon as Felda gets into the sugar business the government gives the green light to raise prices all for the sake of our GOOD HEALTH. Now that the sugar business is in the hands of its offshoot Felda, the government will bend over backwards to accomodate them. For years and years sugar manufaturers' pleas to the government to allow them to raise sugar prices fell on deaf ears. But now, lo and behold, it is decreed that sugar is bad for our health hence raising prices will force Malaysians to consume less sugar. They even got the Consumer's Association of Penang people to come out in support of this proposition. Baloney. This is about the same kind of reasoning as the imposition of a RM50 service tax on credit cards to stop allegedly irresponsible/profligate spending amongst Malaysians. It is now confirmed by those in the credit card business that the RM50 service charge on credit cards will have NO EFFECT whatsoever on the volume and value of credit card transactions. Wither the government's justification for all these plain bullshit, scraping-the-bottom-of the-barrel-for money, desperado policies? You want money, go ahead and say it out loud. You need the money to waste on your hopelessly inefficient projects, to pay off your party warlords, to pay whomever has a hold on your scrawny little necks which i am sure lots of people do, judging by your lousy record and administration.
You need money cos it is never enough to pay off the trail of errors you are leaving behind with each mistake that you make. You need lots of money to stay in power. You're a bottomless greed pit for money which will never be enough for you to waste. Your shit don't stink but the money will cover the smell long enough for you to move elsewhere for your next dump. Good for our health indeed.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Cold Hard Cash is like PURE OXYGEN



Everybody is hungry for liquidity and there is not one banker/financial planner/insurance agent/unit trust manager/salesman/living breathing human being who will say no to cash and isn't lying at the same time, no one in his sane mind will say no to cash, the love of money is the root of all evil but NO ONE will say NO to cash. Recently i read in our local papers that a couple was caught feeding cut-off dollar bills into the bank's automated teller deposit machine. Their modus operandi was to cut a genuine bill in half and paste the other half using a photocopy fake bill. That way the teller machine can't tell the difference and accepts the deposit. If you had RM100, you could double it and so on and so forth. They were busted. Then of course there are the usual assortment of robberies (legal and ilegal), purse-snatching, drilling holes in the wall to rob a pawnshop, all sorts of shennanigans people get up to just to lay their hands on the cash. We NEED cash to live, no less than we need oxygen to breath. We need it to eat, to house ourselves, to put our little ones through college, to give our selves a decent lifestyle, to buy a car, to buy that branded hangbag for your wife so her friends will not look down on her (or not), we need cash and we can never have enough of it. So how come a guy comes along and tells us that love of cash is contrary to Heaven (see: Jesus Christ). I mean, if i don't get the cash i suffer for the duration of my life in this world. And when i die, i get to go to heaven as my reward (IF). So does that make me happy? I dunno. But let's not get righteous and take a vow of poverty just yet cos there are so many other things that one wants that one wants to get and the only way to get it is by cold, hard CASH. Jesus died on the cross what, when he was in his early 30s? i'm 40 now and earning very little, too little. I need to find a way to make cash and i need it badly cos cash equals freedom to me and my little family. Cash means i can buy a decent roof over my head for my little one and my wife. Cash means i can be independent and not take shit from whomever or whoever. If this sound selfish, it is. It SUCKS not to have cash and i need a brain overhaul now to turn me into a money-making machine just like the other chinamen in town. Why should this chinaman be any different? Screw the righteous. EVERYTHING revolves around CASH. Don't let nobody ever tell you otherwise cos they're lying through their teeth. If i can make a product that sells like hotcakes, i'd get to work immediately. I love Jesus, but i don't think that Jesus and money are incompatible. Not unless Jesus himself appear before me like he appeared before Thomas and told me in person that it's all bullshit and i should just live gladly like a poor righteous slob and wait for my reward in the afterworld. But Jesus is not going to do that so i need to work real hard to make the cash so that my life will take on a semblance of reality i can live up to. I need to snap the hell out of my stupid head dreams and start living like a real man. A man who makes money. Oxygen, for my little one, for my wife, for me. I am now officially a money-whore and i love it, so help me God.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

nigga PLEASE!

(left: picture of the Door guard hurling abuses at yours truly as i walked past monkey boy)

I don't understand a lot of the motherfucking stupid rules that some Malaysians seem to get the kick out of imposing on people. Like today, i went to a popular local mall that was undergoing renovation. they sealed off the normal middle entrances and to get in you have to walk a long way to the other entrance. so instead of wasting time i took the staff entrance which was conveniently located upfront near the parking place. Now, i am entering the mall and not leaving it. so why can't i just waltz in along with the other staff? But no, a stupid-ass nigga gotta call me out and abuse me. "Hello, Encik, Encik...hey #$@@$#!!!" etc and going apeshit. I just walked straight in and ignored the nigga. The nigga didn't get to stop me but it hurled some nasty abuses as i was walking past monkey boy. Hey door entrance guard boy, wtf? I can understand if you stop me for wanting to get out through the staff entrance. But going in to your lousy mall? Nigga please!!!! You stupid ass cheap ego trip nigga!

Friday, November 13, 2009

Where were you when Teresa Teng died?




I am munching on some yau char kwai (according to The Star newspaper this is called "Chinese Crullers" but nobody seems to be able to confirm this) washed down with a glass of black coffee as I write this: Where were you when Teresa Teng died? I suppose dead pop icons such as Sudirman to Malays, Andy Gibb to White people, Tupac Shakur to Black people, MGR to Tamil people are such a part of our psyche our collective consciousness if you will, that their demise leaves a gaping hole in our lives, a hole yet to be filled to this very day. And so I ask: Where were you when Teresa Teng died? As if you didn't know already and as a wiki search will show you, Teresa Teng died from a severe asthma attack while on holiday in Chiang Mai, Thailand at the age of 42 (43 by Chinese reckoning) on May 8, 1995. Sweet Teresa, the darling of millions, that mandarin song bird, was no more, rumored to have died in the arms of her froggy boyfriend. I was driving when the shocking news broke over the radio. I was crushed, along with millions of her adoring fans. I could not burn a joss stick to her name but my cd collection will forever remember her to me. To my dying day. Someday when we die, as we all must, we shall be re-united with our beloved songbird. Until that day happens, some of us will erect shrines in memory of beloved St Teresa, yes, her Sainthood shall shine a glorious path to enlighten/en-noble countless minds and lives. Remembering her hits such as "Tian Mi Mi", "The moonlight represents my heart", "the dumpling song" and so many many more evergreens. I can barely swallow my yau char kwai. I can now. So anyway, God bless you Teresa, my third love (after my mom and my dear wife). I bid you adieu, sweet princess :~(

Thursday, November 12, 2009

the strange case of Dr Jekyll and Dato' V.K.Lingam




It's really strange how a lawyer can get himself into such a fix. That is, fixing judges. Why can't a lawyer spend his time and effort to research a case, fight it out on its merits and win? Or lose because of the principle of the matter? Why in God's name must one bribe/offer inducements/chicken-feed judges into giving judgments that one wants? The very thought is so loathsome to me. Does anyone else agree or am I the only one who feels that going the back door way to win cases just, uhm, how do i put it...just...sucks eggs? A lawyer by day (Dr Jekyll). A case fixer/manipulator/judicial appointments lobbyist monster by night. Be that as it may, lack of evidence or what, the whole affair reeks of a smallness that is very peculiar to Malaysia. I cannot speak for other countries, but these things are very apt to be done by Malaysians or rather it is not out-of-character for some Malaysians to resort to such low-handed tactics. Why is it necessary to do so? Is it because our judges are such immovable beasts, heedless of justice's tender mercies, non-followers of principle or law and so susceptible to monetary influence/gain arguably through no fault of theirs as their salaries are but a mere pittance? Lawyer/Dr Jekyll by day. Monster by night. I feel sorry not just for our poor citizens who go through due process of the law only to have fixed judges and fixed judgments thrown in their faces. I pity also Dato V K Lingam for succumbing to the temptation to take the easy way out which is the mess he finds himself in today. What a tortured soul must be Dato V K Lingam! How terrible the burden he bears! Is there any antidote to save him from the monster he has transformed into? Is there a magic potion to cure him of this horrible situation, to rescue him? I fear only more desperation, more groping about in the darkness. The Monster has taken over and it knows no bounds.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

State visit to Malacca of His Majesty King Jaffee-Joffer of Zamunda

"I am King Jaffee-Joffer, ruler of Zamunda. I am looking for my son Akeem".

We are so pleased to welcome His Most Excellent Majesty, King Jaffee-Joffer of Zamunda (pic inset) to Malacca.
His Majesty shall drop by at the Baba House and the Kapitan Keling mosque followed by luncheon at McDowell's and thereafter journey on down to the southern borough of Singapore.
All donations of flower petals and adulations for His Majesty are welcomed.
His Majesty's visit to Malacca (fully escorted by an ensemble of VVIP police outriders) is occasioned by a telegraphic request for more money from his son Prince Akeem's aide Semi who currently resides in a fancy apartment somewhere in Malacca whilst Prince Akeem continues to occupy the modest, lower floor apartment unit poorly furnished and infested by vermin and dirt which they moved in soon after arriving and discarding off their princely robes to dress as the locals do.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Once an ex-smoker always an ex-smoker



I quit smoking cigarettes when i was in my late 20s. The habit started back when i had just finished secondary school in Singapore and i scored well in the exams and my head was all swelled-up. At the Junior College orientation night i bought a packet of menthol cigarettes to smoke afterwards. I had seen my cousin smoking and he looked cool so i thought it would also look good on me. But the girl i was with that night during orientation didn't think it was cool, cos after i started smoking and escorted her home, she turned around and told me she wasn't interested to see me any more. So much for macho guy cool image. But that didn't deter me. I went on to smoke at junior college with some pals especially when we cut the classes that we didn't like, such as maths or chemistry or physics class. There were about 3 or 4 of us regular guys and we always hung out at the playground nearby the college. we'd sit on a see saw, me on one end and Owen X or John Tong or Fadzil at the other end, smoke and talk and laugh. Then i came back to Malaysia after junior college and at a private college i smoked still. not very heavy, maybe a pack of 20 ciggies over a couple of days if i didn't go out much. I smoked in my first year at law school at KDU. i smoked when i went abroad to study in University in England, silk cuts was my favourites back then (i switched to Embassy brand later cos they were cheaper but i preferred silk cuts). When i came back to Malaysia i chose Dunhill lights and after graduation i smoked the same until after i started a job as a reporter. Then later i started smoking clove cigarettes from Indonesia, Saemporna brand, following a journalist expatriate pal's habit. i liked the sweet taste of clove cigarettes but they were high on tar and i coughed more than before. One day after everything was over and i was back in malacca with my non-smoking family, i decided that i wanted to quit for health reasons. i was starting to cough a lot and the phlegm i coughed up was light-brownish and thick. later an x-ray of my lungs showed a white spot where the years of smoking had taken their toll. And so i quit cold-turkey, drinking vodka (raided from my parent's drinks cabinet) at night to douse my craving for cigarettes. drinking vodka poached my liver as a blood and urine test showed later, but afterwards i kicked the drinking habit too. But today, almost 10 years after i have quit the ciggies sometimes i still feel that intense craving for that nutty, delicious flavor of a cigarette in my mouth. Some nights when i can't sleep and i lie awake in bed i get the craving for the taste. it just goes to show that once you've been a smoker, you're never a non-smoker even if you quit for good. you're an ex-smoker. i gained about 10 pounds after i quit the habit but the weight gain was worth it. i exercised hard and after a couple of months i regained my former physical fitness and felt much better. there was no more stale cigarette smell in my hair, my body, my clothes. but i am an ex-smoker not a non-smoker. having tasted ciggies, i can still remember the carnal pleasures of a deep long drag and the memory lingers somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, waiting to be retrieved and to play mistress temptress. It's a life-long struggle but one in which i grow stronger with each passing day that i stay ciggie-free. And i do intend to remain ciggie-free, despite that late night longing that crops up now and then like a bolt of lightning in the night.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

The Angel and the Devil and Wantan Noodles




When I was little, no older than 5 or 6 years old, my parents would take me to this Wantan noodle shop along Jalan Tengkera for a bowl of Wantan noodles. My favourite then as now, is the "dry" noodles served with strips of char siew pork, blanched choy sum and a bowl of clear thin soup on the side. Now this shop was very popular back in those days and it was usually quite busy when we went there. There was this picture hanging on the wall and as i ate my noodles i would gaze at the picture which showed a classic pose of the Archangel St.Michael vanquishing the Devil. At that time when i was small the picture looked much bigger. It struck me as a rather odd picture but i was nonetheless mesmerised by it, the angelic face of St Michael all pure all pale and looking rather stern, looking down on the Devil whose head was being trampled under St Michael's foot. I pitied the Devil, i thought "now why would someone do this to someone else? That fellow is a tad dirty-looking and dark-complexioned and he has horns and he does look fearful, but so does that fellow who is stepping on him." That picture locked itself into my mind and i'd always remember it even long after we had stopped going to the shop and long after i'd grown up. The shop with the picture, the smell and tastes of noodles, the gravy sweet and tasty, me munching on noodles and looking at that picture which was so over-aweing and yet so odd in such a little shop as this. But it is a very popular picture. My wife's family home has the same picture hanging on the front entrance of the house. Now that i'd grown much older and read about St Michael as God's head bouncer, i understand the meaning of that picture which is to symbolise the triumph of good over evil. i take comfort in that and i have even invoked the archangel Michael in prayer. Whether that is proper or not i am not quite sure, but i am told by those who know that God is not quite ready yet to send St Michael down to do battle with the forces of darkness. Not quite ready yet.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

the Ugly Chinaman & the crisis of Chinese culture




(pictures of author Bo Yang and the cover of his famous book)

I had been looking for a copy of Bo Yang's "the Ugly Chinaman and the crisis of Chinese Culture" for the past couple of months without much success until recently when i finally managed to get hold of a used copy from my cousin in Kuala Lumpur who graciously couriered it to me. Bo Yang or Guo DingSheng his real name, is a mainland-born Chinese writer based in Taiwan who passed away on 28th April 2008. His works include a whole tonne of essays and not a few novels but he is best known for his book of the abovenamed title which was published in 1985 (translated into English in 1992)some 9 years after he had been released from jail in Taiwan for allegedly penning a "Popeye" cartoon parody of then Taiwanese president Chiang Kai Shek and his son and heir-apparent Chiang Ching Kuok. During prison Bo Yang had much time for reflection and so he wrote about what he thought to be the problems with Chinese culture. I have only read 20 pages of his book so far and i was laughing from page to page because what Bo Yang wrote was so very true and so very very funny. His observations of Chinese compatriots at home and abroad are humorous, witty and very honest. So influential was his book that the Chinese Communist hardliners on mainland China, following the quashing of mass student protests in Tiananmen square in 1986, used it as an excuse to purge Hu Yao Bang the former reformist Chinese leader because Hu had publicly encouraged people to read Bo Yang's book. This book is currently out of print and it retails on amazon.com used copy for US$99. My own enquiries have turned up various offers of pricey-ness ranging from $195 for a used copy from the USA (but cancelled because they wouldn't deal with Malaysia due to credit card fraud issues), RM350 for a used copy with scribblings on the margins and RM485 for a better conditioned used copy, the latter 2 from the UK and shipping to Malaysia another RM45. In the end, it was my own family ties that enabled me to finally read this book. But i do remember that this book was widely sold during the early to late 1990s, it was easily available in almost any English language bookstore you walked into. In his book, Bo Yang compares chinese culture to the soy paste vat. A soy paste vat is something very Chinese and in it the soy paste is left to decompose and ferment for sometime to yield the final product which is soy sauce. The metaphors and symbolism of Bo Yang's work are price-less and this is something that everybody who is interested in Chinese culture and things chinese should make as compulsory reading. But really no compulsion is required here as the book is extremely entertaining and easy to read.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Baby Baby





Children or babies are like a change of new batteries. They are a source of renewal when we feel tired and worn-out. At the ripe old age of 40 i became the father of a bouncing baby girl with a tendency to regurgitate milk every time after feeding. She vomits like me, maybe. I remember years ago before children ever came into our family - one day while i was driving out with Mom on a warm dry Saturday afternoon lesiurely looking out at half empty streets in Malacca heading to the pasar malam, just me and Mom the two of us. Mom said that she was sure that the Chinese fortune tellers were wrong, they had predicted her to be "Lao Shui Man Soon" (having many many grandchildren in her old age). Here she was, already past 60 with nary a baby/grandchild to hold. My brother then had been married for a few years but my sister-in-law was at the time still working in England. I was still single with no steady girlfriend or prospects in sight - still working for the family business, still dependent on old Mom and Dad. And fast into my 30s. Fast forward 9 years later Mom and Dad have 6 grand kids to date with 1 more on the way next month from my sister. That makes a grand total of 7 grandkids next Chinese New Year, with 2 oxen being born in 2009 alone. How things change. Now whenever my brother and sister come home with their kids, the house is full of children's laughter and tearing around all over the place. I remember feeling old, tired, worn-out during that Saturday afternoon drive to pasar malam with Mom. On 1st September this year, after I had been married for almost 2 years Hannah was born. Now that I have my own child, my wife and i are getting used to waking up in the night to tend to Hannah, to burp her after each feeding, to cradle her to sleep (she hates to be put in the cot to sleep on her own), to bath her, to clean her. It's a demanding job perhaps moreso for my wife than for me, but i'm not complaining over the sleepless nights i have had to endure. I've just changed new batteries ;-)

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Gloss-nost


We practise gloss-nost. Gloss-nost as opposed to former Soviet Premier and Cold War liberator Mr Mikhail Gorbachev's Glasnost, does not mean open-ness transparency and reform. Gloss-nost here means a glossing over what is the surface of things, a shallow-ness in approach to things, the touching of surface level only without going into the substance of matters. For example, 1Malaysia as espoused by the government of late to mean one-ness of all Malaysians united and strong. But then on the other hand, politicians including a former premier have come out fighting for the rights of one race above all others. They struggle for one race and no one else. They are not bothered by what the other races think. They espouse the Mastery of the one race. This sloganeering and putting forth of empty platitudes has become a regular feature of every new government to come into power in Malaysia. Gloss-nost.

But Gloss-nost is not merely confined to the Malaysian government. It cuts across the political divide to include members of the Opposition. For example, Beyonce's concert to Malaysia. Certain elements in PAS protest on "moral grounds". They object that Beyonce's dressing, the showing of flesh, her act will be suggestive in some ways and will tend to corrupt Malaysian youth. Nevermind that Beyonce is a highly talented singer who was invited to sing at the US President's Inauguration Ball where she was watched by millions to be in tears while rendering a heart-felt version of Ella Fitzgerald's "At Last" as newly-elected and the first-ever black American President Barack Obama waltzed to the tune with First Lady Michelle Obama. Nevermind that other notable US-based singers such as Gwen Stefani have obliged us, bending over backwards as it seems, to tone down on their dressing and acts, to cover up more flesh in our humid and warm tropical climate if only just to suit Malaysian cultural mores. Nevermind that the concert is only open to those who actually buy tickets to go and watch it, the vast majority of whom will be adults and not a few non-Muslims. Nevermind that Malaysia is a multi-ethnic, multi-religious country. The views of the vocal stupid few based on the narrowest most shallow/superficial interpretation of religion, never mind the substance, is to cow all else into submission. Gloss-nost.

The Auditor-General's 2008 report as expected, brings to light more instances of over-charging and rampant corruption in government disbursements and spending. How else do you account for an out-of-date-model laptop that costs RM42,320(equivalent to US$12,513 at today's exchange rate), purchased stools that don't match with contracted specifications, government vehicles' maintenance over 3 times the market rates charges, etc etc etc? But I fully expect that nothing will be done to rectify this problem. A few sympathetic and "tut-tut" statements from the top echelons of government shall be enough to re-assure us that, rest assured, the government FIRMLY DISAPPROVES of such profligate waste of public funds. Perhaps a slap on the wrist or a show trial of one or two expendable small fries will be thrown in for good measure. Just to show what's been done. The prosecuted will also likely be found not guilty at the end of the day. Everyone is happy, case closed. Wait until next year's Auditor General's Report and see lah. Business as usual in the meantime. Gloss-nost.

It's ok, waste of public funds? Believe you me, the government is a money tree and there's plenty plenty plenty more where those come from, my friend. The pool of tax payers/funds is seemingly inexhaustible.

Gloss-nost is a way of life in Malaysia. We don't need to think very much thanks to Gloss-nost. We can remain rent-collectors, dividend drawers, expect to be paid for doing nothing thanks to Gloss-nost. We have the most wonderful PR job in the world to depict our happy little country as living in a perpetual summer of racial harmony and communal bliss and all other nations are oh so eager to emulate our fine example. We shall teach them a thing or two. About Gloss-nost.

We are Malaysians so beware!


Once again when asked though email correspondence where i am from, i answer "Malaysia". It's funny how when you meet people online and tell them that you're from Malaysia they suddenly lose all further interest to interact with you or maybe that's just the impression i always get. Malaysians cannot, from Malaysia, buy stuff from ebay in USA or used books, cds from USA because of credit card fraud issues. Malaysians over-stay in Britain and work illegally there and in other countries such as Japan, USA, Australia. Malaysian Chinese make up over 98% of all over-stayers in Britain. Is it any wonder that people are afraid when we tell them that we're Malaysians? Our leaders until very recently have the habit of always pissing off the West in general and Israel in particular. The most wanted Al Qaeda-linked terrorist network in South East Asia was led by a Malaysian who was shot dead by Indonesian police recently. When i travel abroad and use my credit card i have no problems at all with fraudulent charges or card fraud. Back home my direct debit card has been ripped off after i used it at a supermarket. I ask myself why do we do these things. Why do we go overseas and do really bad things, things that we would not do at home because we know we'll suffer the consequences. The bad publicity we get is all of our own doing. Nobody is out to bad lip us. No one is out to especially get Malaysia or Malaysians in general. If we have a bad rap it is because of our bad record and we deserve it. It's not a bum rap. Why must Malaysians travel all the way to UK to work in some dingy restaurant when there are plenty of job opportunities back home? Why must we do all sorts of stupid hare-brained things from drugs mule-ing to people trafficking to credit card fraud and besmirch our reputation abroad? And while all of these things are happening the newspapers back home paint a glowing picture of "Malaysia truly Asia" and how we all live in harmony. Race-baiting, self-serving politicians, corrupt cops, corruption from the bottom to the top are all part and parcel of everyday life in Malaysia. I know it, you know it, anybody with half a brain knows it. But so many of us are still in denial mode. It's tragic. It's sad. When can we be honest and look at ourselves in the mirror and say: "Look, this shit has gone on far enough. Stop it. No more from hereon. I'm watching you."