I was nodding away during a hyperactive young man’s presentation on some Canadian oil sands investment opportunity at my KLCC office when I received a text message from Robin. Yes, Robin my old buddy.
Bosz, I know you always busy. Can meet for makan tomorrow ka? Same place.
“Same place”? That sleazy PJ kopitiam
with the horrendous food, bad company, and worst service? But I’ve not had a chat with Robin for a while and I couldn’t ignore an old friend, twisted or otherwise. I accepted his invite and agreed to meet him for late lunch.
I arrived 40 minutes late after wading my way through flooded streets amidst mind-numbing torrential rain. So much for the not-so-SMART Tunnel, the glorified sewer that was supposed to end KL’s flood woes.
Robin was seated in a corner, with glazed eyes and a blank stare to complement his forlorn look. I said, “what’s up buddy; what’s with the sour face?” Robin did not answer my query but instead partake in the Klang Valley ritual of bitching about the ubiquitous traffic jam.
He pointed to the gridlock a few feet from our table to prove his point. I said, “yeah my friend, do you know that your car added to the congestion?” alluding to his illegally-parked Korean sedan blocking one lane of traffic. Robin said, “haiya Bosz, everyone park like that lah. If I don’t park there, someone else will park there one.” I said, “not me, you know where I park my ride? At the private carpark across the street where they charge RM3 per hour.”
Robin protested, “it’s not the money lah …” I said, “of course not. I know you’ll say it is for the convenience.” He nodded while I added, “so for your convenience, you have inconvenienced countless others.” Yup folks, a couple dozen Robins would quickly cripple KL traffic in no time.
The small talk behind us, I summoned the kopitiam worker and ordered the usual fare. This guy named Ameer, an illegal Bangla who spoke reasonably good Malay (unlike abject BM retard but MyCard carrying Robin) said, “boss, sekarang orang order Ice Blended Coffee, bukan Kopi O Beng, baru ada class.” I looked around at the assorted uncleansed simpletons slurping away at the ice blended whatever but I don’t see any upward revision of their castes and demeanor. I insisted on my Kopi O Beng while Robin fell for the ice blended concoction.
I asked, “yo buddy, what’s up with the dejected disposition? Lost yet again in your nombor ekor bets ka?” while catching a glimpse of a mapiau slip fluttering under his vintage mobile phone. Atau lu baru kasi suap lagi satu orang gomen ka?” Robin replied, “haiyaa Bosz, don’t lah tease me, be serious lah.” I said, ” ok, ok, I’ll try to be serious, but I thought you don’t like it when I’m serious as I tend to demolish every morsel of argument manufactured by your convoluted mind poisoned by the DAP swivel-eyed nut jobs.”
Robin doodled ugly cartoons on the overturned mapiau slip as he touched on the Bersih 3.0 fiasco. I asked, “hmm, so you are sketching Babiga’s face while asking me about the Bersih riots? I didn’t know you can do two things at one time, I’m impressed.” Robin replied, “woii Bosz, Am-bi-ga lah, where got Babiga!” I said, “Babiga, Ambiga, AmbikKau … whatever, but the point is that this bored menopausal meenachi is now unwittingly in bed with the Devil Incarnate himself to fracture, polarise and radicalise Malaysia to a state of existence where ultimately the likes of her would find it too socially distressful to call home.”
Only in Najib’s 1Malaysia
Where else could a menoupausal meenachi from a tiny 7% minority cripple the capital of a World Top-20 trading nation with a demonstration over NOTHING spiced with riots and mayhem perpetrated by tens of thousands of clueless PAS and PKR Melayus — the Malai Lembus — whose very actions will only hasten the political erosion of their race in their own homeland.
I told Robin I’m intrigued by the abject failure of the non-Malays, the nons, to figure out Brother Anwar Bin Ibrahim. Perhaps their overriding hatred of the predominant essence of Malaysia — an essentially Malay Muslim country in roots, identity and socio-political outlook with enough wiggle room for dissension by a rowdy, self-alienising pendatang minority inherited from lax British immigration policy — blinded their perception of this character.
All the way back to his student activism days of the early 70s, Brother Anwar takes to chaos and mayhem like duck to water, indeed, as happy as a pig in mud whenever he can hijack other peoples’ causes and create havoc with his coterie of freakish delinquents and miscreants. For the past four decades, Anwar and chaos are synonymous.
Look at his grin below.
This malignant rabble rouser was having the time of his life while directing his malai lembu horde to breach police barricades and invade Dataran Merdeka in contempt of a court order and to wreak havoc and to attack and provoke the hitherto patient police force. Bersih 3.0 was a god-sent for his flailing relevance to Malaysian politics. Is this what Ambiga is about? Reduced to become Anwar’s pliable meenachi; a glorified menial housemaid in the bigger scheme of things; the latest in the long list of Indians misused and abused to the hilt by Anwar to pursue his singular obsession of becoming Prime Minister at all costs?
The Lingering Curse on Malaysia
As long as this raving megalomaniac remain in the political scene,
Malaysia’s social and political climate will continue to be
precariously volatile and combustible.
Actually, Ambiga and her Bersih 3.0 misadventure is just the latest in a long series of social movements latched-on, hijacked, dominated and ultimately destroyed by Anwar. True blue reformists can see this. And many are speaking out against Anwar’s blatant hijacking of their cause like this and this and this and this.
As for Ambiga, she has truly bitten more than she can chew. She cannot just trigger large scale mayhem that caused untold damage to public property and jeopardise the livelihoods of traders dotted inside the riot footprint and then merrily hopped and scotched back to the comfort and security of her posh Bukit Damansara mansion without any recourse to aggrieved parties. Indeed, as to be expected, pissed-off street vendors affected by her Bersih 3.0 riots gave her a taste of her own medicine right on her front gate.
Babiga Burger, Bukit Damansara
Free Bersih 3.0 T-Shirts for every purchase?
If you indulge in street protests, you’ll get street justice.
The Babiga Burger binge was followed by a “butt exercise” in front of Ambiga’s front gate by a group of armed forces veterans.
Butts for Babiga
Brother Anwar would love these gyrating leathery asses on his doorstep.
What next for the Ambiga circus? Titillating tits by the Pan-Malayan Lorry Drivers Association?
According to the Star, the Malay Armed Forces Veterans Association pledged more action by army veterans if Ambiga continues to tarnish the country and “warned her not to bring anymore trouble to the country.” The association’s president also challenged Ambiga to take legal action against him and if she does not, a bigger group of butt swaying army veterans would gather near her frontgate.
Robin protested, “why they do this to her?” to which I said, “the affected merchants and concerned citizens likewise asked why she did this Bersih riot thing to them?”
So how now?
A cold, ruthless obstinate perpetrator who wouldn’t listen to reason cannot just conveniently morph into a victim the moment the tide of public opinion turns against her.
This is reality, people. If the means to ease your boredom, to find meaning in your empty life and to tackle bouts of menopausal psychosis is to incite and instigate the people and challenge public order and general public wellbeing, then you must be prepared to face the consequences. Call it karma, call it divine providence, neraka atas dunia or whatever, but you reap what you sow.
I said, “we must also choose our friends wisely. If you sleep with the devil, don’t pretend to be an angel the next day. Ambiga accepted Brother Anwar into her bosom; she is tainted now.”
An irritated Robin added, “o.k. lah Bosz, Anwar has his faults, but he is our best bet against evil UMNO and its coalition running dogs. Anwar will lead us to Putrajaya. He will be the next PM.”
I said, “hey my friend, ‘Anwar has his faults’ is the understatement of the century. This guy is the epitome of the failure of Malaysian democracy. A man of such history and character defects would have long been tossed to the political dumpster in more enlightened democracies. His smörgåsbord of lies (“we have enough seats to take Putrajaya on 9-16″), deceit, treachery, social emotive manipulation and cunning political opportunism could fill a library. This rabid anarchist with a mean streak will go to any lengths to take control of this country and ultimately impose his one man dictatorial rule in a polarised, chaotic country — the way he runs PKR and Pakatan today — in which case you nons would be wailing in futility in your boarded-up ethnic ghettos, regretting your stupidity for the rest of your wretched lives.”
Robin protested, “but Bosz, he has reformed; he is now a good Malay. He promised more empowerment of non-Malays, more cultural space, wau-lau Kit Siang will be the Deputy PM and uncle Karpal can be Law minister and Teresa Kok the Women, Family and Community Development minister, Hannah Yeoh the Tourism minister and Bro Tony Pua would be the economic czar and …”
“… yeah, and Babiga would be the Chief Justice, Tian Chua the Interior minister, Irene Fernandez can be Human Resource minister and Mat CPM Sabu as Defense minister … and pigs can fly and kucing dah bertanduk and Elvis is sighted at the Tapah R&R gouging on overpriced Musang Kings.”
A flustered and incredulous Robin uttered, “c’mon lah Bosz, why you talk bad about Anwar one? You think Najib and his corrupt UMNO goons are better kah? You dreaming ah? Why Kit Siang or Karpal cannot be DPM? This is our country also maaah.”
I replied, “I’m not ‘talking bad’ about Brother Anwar; I’m just stating the tip of the rotten truth. Sure Najib Razak is far from perfect either; in fact to me he is a jargon-laden soft wimp who has no idea how to forge a cohesive nation based on shared values, shared socio-cultural norms, with one school for all and a dominant national lingua franca. But Najib does not go to town lying about takeover dates or promising the untenable to minority politicians or instigating crowds to break the law and riot at every opportunity and then morphed as the cherubic, angelic victim to the gullible foreign media while dragging Malaysia’s name through the mud of global public opinion.”
People, remember Bersih 2.0 when Brother Anwar put on a not quite convincing dramatisation of being near-death from an imaginary police beating to the amusement of many? This is from the same confidence trickster who manipulated the national psyche with Oscar-winning pantomimes of crippling back problems and horrific arsenic poisoning.
Flashback: Bersih 2.0
When riots fail, feign near death from police brutality
As for being corrupt, I told Robin that it comes with the territory lah, meaning politics and corruption go hand in hand like nasi lemak and teh tarik or pizza and beer or China-malee lambut kalat female “tourists” with prostitution. Sure, many BN politicians are corrupt. Absolutely no apologies or excuses for the dastardly act. But many PR politicians are corrupted as well, rotten to the core, many ooze sleaze, some are slimy to the touch, and these scums are steadfastly embedded in PAS, PKR and DAP.
Kit Siang or Karpal Singh or even Mr. Irrelevant Loh Gwo Burne or for that matter any MyCard carrying Malaysian as DPM? Yeah sure, if the electorate vote for their party/coalition to command a majority in parliament and they are chosen to lead by their party and coalition partners. Whether its realistic is another thing. And I told Robin don’t lah cry unfair, unfree and unclean elections if his party loses. Indeed, how come there were no complains of unfair, unfree and unclean elections in states won by PR — Selangor, Penang, Kelantan, Kedah and Perak (then)– as well as in many contentious seats won by wafer thin majorities?
Having said all that, the bigger tragedy here is the political stance of the nons. You see, in politics the nons are not objective and far removed from the meritocracy, best-person-for-the-job goobledygook they want the world to believe. They vote on emotions and prejudices. For the past five years, they have been indulging in some sort of self-immolating sado-masochist politics where their irrational provocations may ultimately court Malay Muslim overreaction that would be tragic for all.
The political agenda of the nons, beyond fuzzy little tales of justice, fairness and equality, is singularly dominated by their pathological hatred of the very essence of the Malaysian nation, be it Malay pre-eminence, Malay as the national language, Malay-based symbols of nationhood, the nation’s accepted history, the institution of the Malay royalty, and Malay-based cultural heritage. This racist, subversive sentiment percolates into the cesspool of communal hatred known collectively as the DAP.
But that is only part of the story.
The other, even more tragic, part is the extent the nons go to prop and embellish their Malay frontmen, the malleable Malai Lembus — a necessary evil given demographic realities — to infuse the necessary Malay flavour to their political misadventure. Hence, Brother Anwar, for all his character defects and overall sleazy demeanour, is propped and deified — and repeatedly sanitised amidst his series of lurid scandals — as the “leader” of their anti-Malay revolution. Beyond Anwar, CPM-loving Mat Sabu, the PAS deputy president no less, is a Tuhan-sent. An eclectic collection of pseudo-liberal Malays, Melayu celups, Malay-like nons, semi-Melayu cultural freakzoids and Melayu lost souls form a somewhat palatable veneer over their racist, anti-Malay toxic core.
Hence, we end up with an opposition peppered with shady Melayus (in its various shades and spiritual incarnations) of questionable character in the upper echelons of leadership.
I asked Robin whether this lethal combo of shady Melayus and toxic, subversive nons can actually administer this country? Look at Selangor. Its level of governance and political stability since the 2008 PR takeover is now at Banana Republic level, with the administrative agenda crippled by talks of brothels, sand thieves and water supply issues. And we are talking about the most advanced, the most prosperous state here.
Robin interjected, “but Bosz, the people have spoken. They want free and fair elections. They are fed-up with UMNO’s rule.”
I said, “Free and fair elections? You kiddin me? Was Brother Anwar Ibrahim ever elected as the chairman or leader of Pakatan Rakyat or even his PKR party? No. He proclaimed himself as Ketua Umum, some sort of ‘de facto leader,’ based on what principles? Democracy? That’s laughable.” An ignoramus Robin scoffed, “what’s so funny, Bosz? PKR is a democratic party maah. Anwar Ibrahim and Azmin Ali are fighters for democracy!”
“Fighters for democracy?” Anwar? Azmin? What weed have ya been smokin’ man? Obviously this pathetic little non with a poisoned mind haven’t followed the PKR leadership election sham, with thousands of phantom members voting en bloc for candidates pre-approved by Anwar and Azmin. Digest this and this and this and this.
Before Robin could further articulate his fairytale views, I added, “what about your CPM-incarnate DAP? Got any ‘free and fair elections’ in this father-son party? When was the last time Kit Siang was openly challenged for the leadership? Got right of free expression kah? Look at the ruthless attacks by the DAP leadership and their cyberzealots on the party’s vice-chairman, Tunku Abdul Aziz Tunku Ibrahim for his views on lawlessness and violent demonstrations.”
Tunku Aziz, who joined DAP based on his ignorant read of the party’s phony democratic ideals shrouding a subversive, anti-Malay agenda, quit after citing “irreconcilable differences” and reiterating that the plan to sit in at Dataran Merdeka was “clearly against the law,” adding, “I found it extremely difficult to support anyone breaking the law.” Tunku Aziz had earlier said: “Bersih 3.0 organisers are not a group of angels descended from heaven who are completely blameless. The Bersih organisers should accept that there are substantial elements within the rally from people whose intentions were to create havoc and cause chaos as long as it is possible.”
The extent of the DAPster attack on Tunku Aziz, including not renewing his tenure as a senator in the Dewan Negara, reflected their gross misperception of the man. They had brought him on board — complete with a giddy vice-chairman post — to be their prized Melayu puppet, an obedient stooge who will toe the party line, to add legitimacy to the party’s hollow Malaysian Malaysia rhetoric. But the moment this erstwhile stooge speaks his mind, the DAPsters went berserk, almost incredulous at the audacity of this Malai puppet to have an independent viewpoint, to have a mind at all. So much for fighters for democracy. Got free speech ah? Got free thoughts ah?
The Tunku Aziz saga is a scathing indictment of what the DAP is all about. His parting shot, referring to party sec-gen. Lim Guan Eng, said it all: “A deep sense of relief of being freed from the tyranny of a demagogue.” Another Malai Lembu has extricated himself from the subversive shackle and fought back. More to come as they inevitably realise the irrationality of their association with a blatantly anti-Malay, anti-Islam party.
Tunku Aziz’s unceremonious exit is just the latest in a long series of DAP Maoist-style purges. In the past, pragmatists like Lee Lam Thye and Wee Choo Keong were thrown out and today the likes of P. Ramasamy and M. Kulasegaran were treated as nothing more than glorified parias, the obligatory tauyoons. And don’t let me get started on how Brother Anwar’s PKR treats Indians. Even diehard Anwarwallas, Nallakaruppan and Gobalakrishnan, left after realising the absurdity of their existence in this husband-wife-daughter party.
Robin interjected, “but Bosz, many towering Malays have joined the DAP maah. UMNO have no room for these smart people. These good Malays want justice for all.” I said, “yeah my friend, you can see a definite psychotic commonality in these Melayu collaborators. You know, in any form of human conflict through the ages, be it armed, social or political, enemy collaborators are bound to exist. Some do it for the money and promised positions; some just want to gain attention after being rejected by their old party, UMNO; some are just Melayus ingrained with the “hamba” mentality, where they need a foreign Tuan, a Bangsa Asing to lord over them and validate their existence. Yet others are not Melayus in the first place, the type that was brought up by a non-Malay, Muslim-on-paper-only parent and feels stuck and constraint under a Malay skin while he/she is actually a Chinese or Indian or a metallic brown Mat Salleh-wannabe.”
But the sick irony of it all is that after all the berpaling tadah and penderhakaan kepada bangsa charade, these Melayu talibaruts are finding out the painful way at the dire lack of fairness, democracy, fair play and accountability in the DAP itself. Imagine, after enduring scorn and ridicule for collaborating with the anti-Melayu, anti-Islam Maoists, they ended up as third-class Malai puppets, trampled and pinned down by the filthy soles of the gang Bapak-Anak. Pathetic!
“Anyway buddy,” I asked, “you can trust traitors kah? Do you know how collaborators and traitors are dealt?”
Robin whispered, “I don’t know here, but no mercy for these kinds in China during Mao’s era. And it’s even worst in today’s North Korea. Whole families sent to the gulag for life.”
Changing tune, Robin said, “but Bosz, what about PAS? Cannot be bad also lah. These hajis are very alim one, always pray, and treat us Chinese as equals because race doesn’t exist in their religion.” I responded, “ya kah? Then how come PAS always bicker with DAP/PKR in the Kedah government? How come DAP’s biggest enemy in Selangor since PRU12 has not been UMNO but their buddy PAS? How come you people don’t like Hasan Ali?”
Talking about PAS, nothing much to expect from a party led by sleepy mullahs, CPM boot lickers and simpleton comedians and guided by an ignorant village charlatan who actually thinks his flip flops are holy objects capable of bestowing divine blessings on those who stole them from his dusty doorstep. I live part of the year in Kelantan. I can write a thick book on PAS mismanagement in that state. The crumbling or non-existent infrastructure, perennial water woes, incredible lack of basic public hygiene and abject government non-accountability are obvious for all to see.
Now, back to the discussion on democratic ideals, I asked Robin, “remember the ill-fated MCLM, where a bunch of bored, flaccid middle-aged men appointed themselves as the jury, the gate-keeper to chose and “approve” candidates for PRU13? Who the heck do they think they are? Some sort of extra-Constitutional Election Candidate Clearing House? Isn’t their actions tantamount to tampering with the process of democracy, where free and fair elections entail a citizen’s inalienable right to stand as candidates and the public’s right to freely chose its preferred candidate, free from coercion or deception by a bunch of constipated, self-righteous narcissists?”
Robin jumped in, “yor lah Bosz, I agree on that one. This MCLM was led by one beer-drinking Indian fellow with a Malay name and a few of his pub kakis. Waah, they think they can just nominate some friends and force Pakatan parties to accept them as some kind of parachute candidates kah? But now no more MCLM. Sudah kong. Kaput maah.”
Robin added, “anyhow Bosz, I don’t know about you, but I want free and fair elections.”
I said, “yeah, I want free and fair elections too. Free from unsubstantiated claims of fraud and phantom voters and street demonstrations and chaos and mayhem brought about by people who know the only way to gain power is not through free and fair elections but via street violence and revolution by the confused masses.”
I asked, “do you demand free and fair elections by running amok like madmen and madwomen in downtown KL? What if you lose in a free and fair election? Will you accept the result like an honourable fellow, or do you still insist it is not a free and fair election and again run amok like madmen and madwomen in downtown KL and demand the country hold another “free and fair” election. What if you lose again? Another round of demos? So you’ll be running amok like madmen and madwomen in downtown KL after every election rerun until you actually win the election? What if you’ll never win the election? You’ll be running amok like madmen and madwomen in downtown KL in perpetuity? Or do you run amok only in states/seats where you lose? What if UMNO/BN supporters run amok as well in areas where Pakatan wins? So imagine the Pakatan people run amok in Barisan states and the Barisan people running amok in Pakatan states.”
I said, “in that case the whole country will run amok! You really want to see me run amok and use you as target practice for my tekpi, kelewang and kapak bungkus arsenal, not to mention my kris collection?”
Robin protested, “haiyaa, no lah Bosz. We only want to cari makan here maah. Why you like this one?”
“Cari makan?” I asked. “Lu sudah kenyang sampai buncit hamil 3 bulan mau makan apa lagi? Lagi pun, macam mana lu boleh cari makan kalau lu orang sekarang banyak main-main sama api, cari gaduh sana sini? Ini macam bagus kah? Boleh tahan kah?
Indeed, how can all these anarchy be good for the country? Do these Bersih 3.0 instigators care about the country? Do the rioting Malai Lembu stooges even understand the bigger picture? “What about you, Robin?” I asked, and added, “do you even know what you’re fighting for, apart from cheering at some incoherent anti-UMNO, anti-establishment circus?”
Who are the movers, the puppeteers of Bersih? Do they represent the nation in terms of demographics and regional representation or are these people just a lunatic fringe of the minority periphery of Mainstream Malaysiana?
Robin jumped in, “they represent all facets of Malaysia lah Bosz. Semua kaum ada one.” I said, “yeah, tell me about Malay representation. Proportionate or token?”
You see, Malays formed only 28.5% of Bersih’s 21-person Steering Committee, while the nons make up the other 71.5%, with Indians forming the single biggest group. Is this the country’s demographic sampling? How many of these self-appointed caretakers of Malaysian democracy are from the east coast? From the Borneo states? Do they represent me? The almost 70% of Malaysians out there?
Just look at the Bersih demands. How many of those are within the ambit of the Election Commission? And fully four out of the eight demands — free media, strenghtened public institutions, stop corruption, stop dirty politics — are nothing more than vague concepts way beyond the scope of the EC. I say these are not bona fide demands at all but rather whimsical political rhetoric, like some sort of spoiled brat’s Christmas wish list. In fact, the very same four demands could be thrown at the incompetent, bumbling Pakatan state governments of Selangor, Penang, Kedah and Kelantan.
Faced with a famine of facts, Robin blurted out, “whatever lah Bosz, but we have the right to support a cause we believe in.” I replied, “o.k. brother, ditto here. But you must at least understand the cause, the struggle, the end game … and not just grin at the sight of the powerless, under-equipped police being attacked by criminal hooligans just because you have been brainwashed by your SJKC roots and your self-alienising community to hate the Malay police and other forms of Malay authority. Now, that is not a fight for democracy; that is just crude racism.”
Look at the so-called Auntie Bersih below. Totally bewildered by conflicting signals — fighting for “freedom” and “democracy” but witnessing the very same freedom being hijacked and brought into disrepute by Brother Anwar’s rampaging mat rempits and sampah masyarakat which she so despise and have little in common. She fights for free speech; but when given the podium by the “alternative media,” she could only shrug in contempt at the polite Malay reporter, brushing him aside with a very rude berambus lah remark. This kind of person is a role model kah? Ada adat Malaysia kah?
This ingrained alienisation — borne of divergent social, educational and linguistic paradigms — is the true target for reform, not the incoherent demands by Bersih.
A visibly flustered Robin changed tune and said, “haiyaa Bosz, the police started it all lah. The Bersih people were peaceful until the fascist cops attacked them mercilessly. So brutal maah.”
I said, “say what? Police brutality? How you know? You were there kah?” Robin replied, “no lah Bosz, I read it on Malaysiakini and Malaysian Insider and the Chinese papers maah. The police so damn brutal one.”
I asked, “you want to talk about brutality? How about brutality of the lembus as instigated by Brother Anwar?”
I told him the police showed considerable restraint and were almost sedentary. In some locations, they even exchanged greetings and accepted flowers from some Bersih ladies. They acted — that’s what the police and law enforcement forces are for anywhere on earth — only after the barricades were breached and when the Malai Lembu rioters invaded Dataran Merdeka and wreak havoc on public property and actually attacked the police force.
Robin smirked and queried, “woii Bosz, you dreaming kah. Where got the Bersih people atack the police one? Mimpi kah?”
Nah, tengok ni. Siapa serang siapa dulu? Si Malai Lembu Unit Amal PAS bahalol tu tahu polis tidak akan belasah mereka pada tahap yang sepatutnya. Jadi beranilah si jaguh-jaguh kampung ni.
Nah tengok, anggota polis kita yang cedera. Dipukul oleh sesama Melayu Islam kita juga. Camni, siapa rugi? Siapa untung?
I said, “woii Robin, anywhere on earth, once you break the law, vandalise public facilities, and attack police officers, of course lah the police will act. Otherwise, what are they there for? Defenseless sitting ducks for the Malai Lembus kah?”
I added, “kalau orang tiba-tiba hantam lu, kasi rosak lu punya harta benda, kasi kacau lu punya anak bini, lu tak mau hantam balik ka?
Robin shot back, “haiyaa, of course lah I will hantam back. Where can allow like this. I will use my ….. umm Bosz, can pinjam your kapak kecik and parang ka? Just in case …”
Ha, there you go. So much for this guy’s phony peaceful disposition. Even a little teaser of physical encroachment by others brought out the ferocious killer animal in Robin. So please lah don’t bark police brutality when all along the perpetrators of the violence came from the Bersih people.
As for our police force, outfit them appropriately lah. Macam mana mau hadapi beribu Malai Lembu gila dengan hanya ber-uniform gaya mata-mata Kampong Telor Dua Butir? Pakai lah riot gear secukupnya. Baru lah boleh belasah si Malai Lembu kaw-kaw, sampai serik hingga ke anak cucu. Dong Zong Donkey Kong ke, Hindraf ke, Unit Amal PAS ke, DAP Socialist Youth ke, mah chai-mah chai Sam kemetot PKR ke … semua boleh kasi belasah cukuuuup, cukuuuup.
Nah Shamsiah Hussein Onn, tengok ni. LAPD punya “FRU.” Barulah boleh berentap betul-betul dengan si Malai Lembu pencacai Babiga tu.
I told Robin I’ve seen first-hand punitive riot police action in my travels over the past three decades. I was caught in the middle of a pitch battle between German skinheads and left-wing anarchists and tough riot police near Munich’s Olimpiastadion some years ago. Brutal affair, with the polizei coming out clear winners after methodically beating the sh*t out of both groups of rioters. Now, that is brutality, though necessary.
Of course, living in Southern California is not complete without getting caught in the occasional insurrection by one of the megalopolis’ myriad of interest groups, ranging from disenfranchised chicanos to gay biker gangs to drunk over exuberant grid iron fans of my famous alma mater. And don’t expect the LAPD and LA Country sheriff deputies to be restrained softees and sitting ducks like the Malaysian cops at Bersih 3.0. They’ll beat the sh*t out of these anarchists to clear the streets and freeways as rule of law takes precedence in those parts.
Nah, a mild sampling of LAPD intolerance of street dissent.
Now, you want to complain about arrests and detentions of the anarchists after they created havoc in downtown KL? You mollycoddled little nons want to use that as fodder against the “cruel regime”? You think the West is better? You kidding me? You want real detention without trial for a crime you didn’t commit?
Check this out.
Did this Daniel Chong or his lawyer cry race or “White oppression against an innocent Chinese youth” in a press conference conducted loudly in Mandarin? Any outcry by the Chinese community in the U.S.? Was this even on their news radar? No. Asian Americans would likely utter “who cares” and “serves this drug delinquent good” for such incidents.
Want more stories of real police brutality? Google Communist China’s bloody occupation of Tibet and East Turkestan and witness the methodical oppression of whole communities by the Han communists.
A defensive Robin scrambled more off-the-cuff dissent when he said, “but Bosz, you cannot just dismiss these Bersih Malay boys as lembus and dumb tools of Pakatan. Surely they must be angry about something, with UMNO’s injustices and corruption and nepotism and cronyism and profiteering and …”
I cut him off, “… yeah, how come they demo only about UMNO/BN ‘injustices and corruption and nepotism and cronyism and profiteering’ and not rampant PKR/DAP/PAS ‘injustices and corruption and nepotism and cronyism and profiteering’ in the states they rule? Unless, of course, it was nothing more than partisan politics — the machinations of one side choreographed by Pakatan puppet masters — to bring down the other side through violent means.”
“But Bosz,” Robin added, “why are they so violently angry, not just angry, but with the energy and vigour to cause mayhem and take on the might of the police?”
I told Robin he should ask that question to his PAS and PKR collaborators. Ask the mullahs and Malay Apologists what message they preached to their congregation, what sort of mischievous propaganda they infused into the minds of these gullible youths.
Robin’s rhetoric aside, I feel the Bersih 3.0 mayhem was reflective of a bigger problem, a structural economic disequilibrium skewed by an unsustainable overdependence on foreign labour. With all forms of labour outsourced to legal and illegal foreign workers, many of these idle, underemployed and unemployable youths have become society’s lost souls. Uneducated; with zero job skills; with neither business capital nor acumen; and afflicted by acute motivational deficiency, this huge and ever growing pool of bored young Melayus are easy prey for political opportunists. And this falls right into Brother Anwar’s territory. Hence, for these idle youths with lots of time in their hands, a little anarchist fix with like-minded friends in downtown KL is more exciting than roaming the shopping malls or watching reruns of Maharaja Lawak Mega or attending mediocre Malaysian Super League matches.
Robin asked, “like this how Bosz? The Melayus beranak banyak maah. More troops for Anwar. Like this Bersih 4.0 will be bigger. Bersih 5.0 even bigger. And then we’ll have MegaBersih!” I told him that may indeed be the prevailing issue for Malaysia for years and decades to come — providing meaningful lives for a burgeoning young population who are academic underachievers and mostly averse to hard work (or any work at all) and with little drive or ambition. An observant Robin added, “how to control this young people explosion ah Bosz? We got no tsunami or volcano or megaquake or tornado. We certainly got no famine, with everyone getting fat and lazy, especially bloggers. We got no wars to fight …” I interjected, “you mean we have no means to cull the population? So you cull by warfare? Then maybe we should go liberate the Malay region of Patani …” Robin said, “Patani? Where is that? Near Pattaya kah? Once this Patani land gets liberated and joins Malaysia, we’ll have even more Melayus to march for the upcoming MegaBersih. Like this how?”
I said, “no my friend, the four million Patani Malays endured over a century of foreign rule. They know that a main cause for their subjugation to Siam in 1902 was their own disunity and the role of Melayu talibaruts in their midst. They will not repeat those follies. And they will make sure new Melayu talibarutswill not appear in this country.”Not satisfied with the underwhelming fare of rock-hard vadey and soggy popiah, I suggested we adjourn to a nearby KFC. With a glint in his little beady eyes, Robin became melodramatic in his abhorrence of the fast food chain. “Haiyah Bosz, where can go there one.” I feigned ignorance and uttered “why?” Robin replied, “you donno ah? Those racist workers will attack us lah. Wau-lau-eh, some even use steel bars maah!” I said, “where got lah my friend. Mana ada guna besi hantam lu orang?” to which Robin interjected, “got lah, they use besi one. Sedap hingga menjilat besi maah …,” alluding to the Colonel’s famous tagline. That brought a hearty laugh out of me, not just at his surprising wit, but also at Robin’s unbridled seriousness about the whole affair.
I said, ‘that KFC fracas is old news lah buddy; anyway, how do you know the ‘victim’ was not the real culprit?” An agitated Robin pointed to KFC Malaysia’s apology, staffers suspended and such.
“You people have some kind of fetish for apologies kah?”, I asked, alluding to the nons’ proclivity to demand apologies for people’s reaction to situations the nons themselves started in the first place. I added, “you blatantly break the law and societal norms and then you go crybaby with your own laughable fairytales of innocence in the predictable DAP media circus (like this and this) and demand apologies from the law enforcers and others who caught you redhanded.”
Robin fired back, “but Bosz, how come you all layanthem and actually apologise? It would just be fodder for more demands for apologies about everything! Haiyaa, when you apologise, you sudah admit guilt lah, betui kah?” I told Robin my own form of “apology” to false accusations and outright lies would be a nice, personalised imprint of my royal knuckles right between the slanties, plus a well-placed kick up where the sun don’t shine with my custom-made platypus beak tipped, koala fur fringed, saltwater crocodile hide wingtips.Anyway, Robin has a point there. I believe this culture of apology — budaya meminta maaf tak tentu hala — started during the dark days of political psychedelia under the stewardship of the sleepyhead PM, the era where sheer political inertia smothered by leadership stupidity and a sense of helplessness emboldened the nons to challenge the very essence of Malaysiana. Remember when the old sleepyhead sent then Home Minister, Azmi Khalid, to Communist China to profusely apologise for alleged police maltreatment of what later turned out to be a Chinoid-looking Malay woman! Even the veritable New York Times headlined the story, mischievously equating the “Chinese” woman’s treatment to American military atrocities at Iraq’s Abu Ghraib prison, the Rodney King beating in Los Angeles, and the rape and killing of ethnic-Chinese women in the immediate post-Suharto Jakarta. Wow! And as if that was not enough, the Times added:-
The Malaysian video has also sparked protests among the country’s ethnic Chinese minority, who say the likelihood that the woman in the video may well have been a Malaysian citizen only attests to the discrimination they face.
Wau-lau-eh. Biar betul Beng. See the crybaby syndrome erupting yet again? And to the Noo Yorkk Times no less! What next? Holocaust? Ethnic-cleansing? Well, looking at the smug faces of the overfed Ah Peks and Ah Sohs and their ching chong ching chong offsprings in their shiny Mercs and Bimmers rolling in and out of KL’s Golden Triangle malls and noisily piggying out amidst 80-dish dim sum spreads while staring contemptiously at the poor natives, I don’t think they are worried about being banished to a tropical Auschwitz anytime soon. The New York Times reporter, in fact, has a far better chance of being mugged and trashed by my Harlem Brathas in his dingy local subway than anything ever happening to these “discriminated” pendatang fat asses in Malaysia.
Oh yes, the moment it was revealed that the “Chinese woman” was actually a run-of-the-mill Melayu lock-up detainee, the DAP-led anti-whatever crusaders whittled into thin air and the “outrage” dissipated faster than Brother Anwar’s quicky with the China hooker. The chief instigator, Teresa Kok, slithered back into her foreskin after leaving a trail of political. social, media and legal mayhem all the way to Beijing and New York. Yup, these DAP slimeballs are far from their phony multiracial, Malaysian Malaysia facade; their party is nothing more than an unbridled Untuk Cina movement of the ultra-totok kind.
As for the KFC incident, the loud-mouthed Ah Beng ultimately got what he asked for after incessantly barking like a bitch in heat at the overworked staffers? Yup, caught on tape (below) posing like a 3-inch dick version of Hulk Hogan while shouting at and provoking the employees to the chagrin of other customers.
Gelagat si Ah Beng kemaruk ayam goreng
Waah, manyak eksi maaa. Lu ingat lu sorang saja kena tunggu ka?
Lain orang boleh sabar, tunggu giliran, order apa saja yang belum habis.
Tapi apasal lu sorang manyak gelisah? Lu spesial kaa? Betul mau gaduh kaa? Jadi apahat lu komplen bila sudah kena hantam? Apahat manyak manja? Lu bikin provokasi, tapi pura-pura jadi mangsa. Mau kasi satu dunia kesian sama lu ka? Ini macam punya perangai boleh terima ka? Gua boleh terima lu jadi Rakyat Malaysia sejati sama darjat sama gua ka? Boleh Ka? Patut ka?
Yup, lo and behold; after igniting the mayhem, this little cissy had the nerve to put on a straight face and lie to the media with delusions of victimisation by Malay thugs working at KFC. Of course, the subversive gutter media (Malaysiakini, Malaysian Insider and such) typically lapped at such news with gusto and fuel yet another round of Malay-bashing by their cyber-choirboys (with Malay rebuttals conveniently moderated away obviously).
Robin’s feeble rebuttal was doused by my sense of wonder at his species. I said, “I just don’t understand you people. You cannot even lose honourably. If you kena tangkap by the police for the myriad of offences (like this and this and this) that seem to permeate your very soul, take it like a man (or a woman) lah! Terima saja laa. Kalau takmau kena cekup, jangan bikin salah laa. Kalau tak mau kena hantam, jangan start dulu laa, jaga mulut sikit laa.” I asked, “Why this need, almost an obligation, to stage sham press conferences in Communist China’s national language with the DAP subversives and turn every single iota of your wretched life into a racist anti-Malay freakshow?”
… and, as expected, the Botak turns up!
Haiyaaa …. so typical of these DAP Agent Provocateurs.
First they provoke the Malays, they cause trouble ….
then when the Melayus react, they will cry racism in a
slick press conference
ching chong, ching chong, ching chong-ing away in Communist China’s national language geared for the subversive gallery and rollout the whole
charade for global consumption.
See how fast the DAP subversives grabbed and spin this customer-from-hell episode into a full-blown manifestation of the “brutal repression of the angelic, innocent and faultless Chinese minority by racist Malay bullies.” Look at that botak fellow. Yeah, this Lim Lip Eng character, typical of his Chinese Chauvinist DAP cadres, likes to poke his bald pate into curdling social cesspools to stir enough turd to sustain his party’s untenable Sinocentric stance among the clueless, unwashed masses of debilitatingly alienised nons.
So people, this is the gritty outcome of PM Najib’s 1Malaysia appeasement policy where racial, cultural and linguistic distinctions among our citizens are inexplicably unearthed, revived, propagated and embellished.
Sadly to say, more racist-tinged fracas will appear online as the Malaysian nation morphed from a relatively stable land based on a strong Malay historical, socio-cultural and linguistic essence into a sad, incoherent jumbled collection of angry kaums, bangsas and tribes bent on projecting exaggerated renditions of their ethno-cultural and linguistic specificities.
Robin sat in contemplative silence while compulsively shaking his ice-blended something and loudly slurping the gooey content almost in tacit protest over nothing.
I added, “Like this susah laa. How can you minorities have a meaningful existence in this country if you regularly bitch to the world — in some foreign language no less — on some illusory grand Melayu conspiracy against your pursuit of wealth and happiness … and a place in the next round of Malaysian idol?”
The reigning poster boy of the crybaby species minted
by the SJKC alien-producing factory.
Note the resemblance to the KFC crybaby. The Dong Zong Donkey Kong weirdos have been very effective in forging these lost alien look-alikes in our midst. Seriously people, are these lost souls our future Anak Bangsa Malaysia who will fight for our Tanah Tumpah Darah alongside the Melayus and other Bumiputras? Heck, can these self-alienising beings even communicate meaningfully with the majority in a common language?
Well, since KFC-phobe Robin won’t follow me for some sedap hingga menjilat besi fried chicken, I summoned a waiter to order more food. A vaguely familiar character smiled and chuckled as he shuffled and squirmed towards us through a sea of sweaty torsos pungent with cheap perfume and even cheaper smokes.
“Hallo boss, lama tadak nampak?”
Now, who could this be? By golly, it is “Tyrone”, the bumbling Rohingya PATI who added spice … and broken bowls … to our last visit here a couple of years ago. Tyrone is now the supervisor. He has put on quite a bit of weight and seemed happier.
I asked, “mee kari ada kah” and this triggered laughs all around as we relive the drama of Tyrone’s slippery mishap that ended with five bowls of piping hot curry mee splattered on the floor near my feet.
We ordered curry mee of course, but this time neatly served in individual bowls placed carefully on our table.
With real food on the way, I told a somewhat disconsolate Robin to let go of his argumentative, the-world-owe-us-our-happiness mindset for once and enjoy the fare at this his favourite makan place. Robin said, “ok lah Bosz, arguing with you is very tiring maah, make me hungry one.”
Before long, a more relaxed Robin was feasting his eyes on a group of giggling teenage girls. This closet romeo was beaming ear-to-ear when the girls made suggestive gestures that tantalise his fancy. I said amidst the din of the incoming evening rush hour office worker crowd, “waah buddy, finally your famous ‘clubbing ah mois’ have turned up in this god-forsaken joint. I thought it was just a kinky figment of your imagination. I must admit I’m beginning to find this place a wee bit tolerable now that I have something else to see apart from your Babiga doodlings.”
With his eyes still trained on the new attraction, Robin said, “let me enjoy the view lah Bosz; I know they are not your taste one. You must be the dangdut lady type, what’s her name? Ahh yes, Amelina. Betui kah?”
KijangMas doing Dangdut? I asked myself. In addition to Springsteen and Dire Straits?
Gaining my composure, I said, “sorry to disappoint you lah friend, but I’m not a dangdut kaki, although the Kelantan version can be quite entertaining. Anyway, forget dangdut. Make way for the real K-Pop, Kelantan Pop that is!”
I added, “by the way ma man, do you know that I used to have a crush on Sara Loo, a somewhat popular Chinese Malaysian singer of the nineties. A surprised Robin uttered, “ahh Bosz, you … have a crush? On some loo lady? Wau-lau-eh, I thought you only crush people, not having a crush on someone. Serious ah Bosz? How did it go? You proposed ah? Tell me lah …”
I said, “whooa, hold on to your smelly underwear man. I didn’t get to meet her lah. Mana boleh propose to someone you tak kenal.”
A bemused Robin went on the offensive, “waah Bosz, I didn’t know you go for Chinese chicks. I thought you want to exterminate us all, or at least sent us back in your famous rickety tongkang.” Half jokingly I said, “well Robin, your suspicions are correct; I want to banish all you ungrateful subversives to Pulau Bidong, off Trengganu … except Sarah Loo and a couple others.”
Robin inquired, “got others kah? Woi, how many Chinese girls you simpan in your closet ah? Got room for me kah? I don’t think I want to go to your Bidong gulag lah. I want to be with your many ah mois. I will be good company for them when you are away … he he. Can ahh Bosz …?”
I replied, “sorry buddy, the ‘couple others’ are Ah Tiam, my trusted auto mechanic; Ah Fatt, my Mr. Kaw Tim who, on very short notice, can arrange anything from dinner party for 20 at some obscure Port Klang seafood paradise to a tuxedo with matching suede shoes; and Ah Seng, my late father’s old sometime butler/handyman/driver who has nowhere else to go.”
A flabbergasted Robin said, “woii Bosz, this is too much. You, Mr.wanna-banish-us-chinkies-from-Malaya, have a closet retinue of one ah moi heartthrob complete with ah pek mechanic, servant and fixer.
This is a revelation!
I must buy four digit number maah. What is your age times your height divided by the square root of your waistline ahh Bosz? The numbers sure win first prize one. Ten Big, Ten Small maah … first prize I will go holiday in Tokyo Disneyland. Oh, you can bring Sara Loo as well. I belanja. But no Ah Tiam, Ah Fatt and Ah Seng lah. Mana ada syiok with these old ah peks in our first class A-380 cabin …”
My pleasantly hilarious premonition of a first class flight aboard a spanking new A-380 with a reincarnated early 1990s Sara Loo and with my buddy Robin fighting over seating arrangements with the three ah peks was rudely cut short by the sound of bowls and chopsticks dumped on our table. An observant Tyrone asked, “waah Boss, pikir apa? Macam tengah mimpi manis saja. Ada bini baru kah?”
I quickly changed the subject and asked Tyrone about his life. Tyrone said he is now a permanent resident, having courted and married a local Malay girl in a whirlwind romance. “Sekarang saya akan jadi Bapa Melayu,” he said. Confused, I asked what that means. Tyrone proudly said, “bini saya sudah 8 bulan mengandung lah boss. Lain bulan, dia kasi lahir saya punya anak. Itu surat beranak kita kasi masuk kaum Melayu lah. Jadi saya jadi Bapa Melayu lah.” I said, “waah, banyak bijak ahh. Awak tak mau balik negeri kah?” to which Tyrone replied, “apa hal balik negeri boss? Sekarang ini Malaysia saya punya negeri. Bini saya Melayu, anak saya Melayu, saya Bapa Melayu. Kami sudah bayar deposit mau beli itu flat kos rendah dekat sana Puchong. Nanti sudah beranak, saya punya bini mau buka warong nasi campur belakang itu Motorola Sungei Way sana. Saya kasi tolong sana lah. Hari-hari cash masyuuuk. Saya banyak syukur sama itu Tuhan Allah.”
Wow, this is the same Rohingya pendatang who could hardly cakap Melayu a couple of years ago. About to become a Bapa Melayu and thrive in his adopted land.
I told Robin my prophecy has rung true. Back in our last meeting here, I said Tyrone would probably overtake him in the social entitlement ladder as he morphs into a Melayu. Between loud slurps of the curry mee, Robin acknowledges my point but his body language revealed an inability to comprehend the delicious irony.
As we sat there quietly consuming our truly Malaysian dish, Penang style curry mee, the logic disconnect and dichotomy of thought between two fellow citizens on all aspects of this country’s life, society and politics encapsulate failed government policy over the decades on unified schools, linguistic commonality and socio-cultural integration.
So folks, brace for more dissension as we further explore the dark crevices of the mind of an alienised Malaysian.
Needless to say, to be continued …