Archive for June, 2017

Angel’s Malaysian Bitch

2018 May 13: This is reposted from a year ago in response to Lim Guan Eng’s recent most ‘Malaysian First’ declaration, “I don’t see myself as Chinese, I am Malaysian.”

Of course, Francis Lim Guan Eng is not Chinese — he is an Anglophile — and the Malaysian part is a given, in the IC.

But, is there anywhere in the world such a trite statement, conflating an individual, cultural identity with a collective, nationality construct like they are the same? And this stupidity is by the revered leader of a political party about to become senior minister. Save Malaysia? Yes, please….



That Malaysian First bitch, all over again….

Angel Ng (the woman in tattoo) should have a good look at the photograph taken at her place in so-called KL’s Chinatown which, really, is equal to the contradiction of saying, Chinatown in Shanghai or Taipei or Hong Kong. Kuala Lumpur started as a Chinese city, built by the Chinese, and remained so well into the eighties until Zainudin Maidin, Mahathir Mohamad and other Umno racist bigots decided it has too many Chinese, pendatangs, for a Malaysian capital. And the irony is this, it is still the pendatang capital; Indonesians, Burmese, Banglas, Nepali, Pakistanis, Arabs, even Africans. To these people, Zam, Mahathir and Sanusi Junid don’t seem to mind.

Decades and generations of Umno’s political work and national policies (especially since the days of Mahathir) had come to this, in Angel’s words:

I see myself as Malaysian, not Chinese.

This is absurd because it presumes that the Chinese is a Malaysian as a Malay is Malaysian, which in reality and in truth is patently false. All political rights of the Chinese have been stripped to the bare minimum. Even there, at that level, at the bare minimum — that is, the vote — it has been further eroded: the worth of a single Chinese vote has been so whittled down it now equals one tenth of the Malay, and still it’s going down. All this is happening in spite of their illegality and their unconstitutionality. Malaysia and the Malaysian, both as a polity and as a national political expression, is a fucking piece of fraud.

DAP’s Lim Kit Siang completely dismisses this core of the Malaysian apartheid system so that, in the political language of Anglophile DAP, Angel’s words become, Malaysian First, Chinese Second.

But Malaysia doesn’t deserve us, the Chinese, nor our money, our loyalty much less. If Kadir Jasin or Mahathir insists that Chinese loyalty has always been suspect then our reply is, ‘Yes we’re disloyal. So what? You want loyalty, Kadir, suck my dick‘.

What’s tragic is the failure of Chinese Anglophiles to see in Malaysia the world’s greatest political scam because there is nothing like it elsewhere. Instead, the like of Angel pays tribute to being Malaysian, begging as if to be treated like a dog. Then, as she dismisses her ethnicity, you see her returning to and unashamedly exploiting what is clearly and identifiable Chinese. Go back to the earlier photo and check this one below, ‘What do you see all around?’


Everywhere is representation of the Chinese. Those entrances and windows and signs and other signifiers are not Malay and not Indian. What cultural product or cultural life does Angel thinks she is selling to tourists? Malay? Islamic, ‘bottoms up’? Or Chinese? Or simultaneously Chinese and Malaysian? But the Chinese identity is so completely mangled in national life and before that suppressed through its politics that the result is a person such as Angel, confused, contradictory and lost.

Angel’s contradiction, as well as Kit Siang’s and the DAP is that being Chinese and Malaysian are mutually exclusive.

They couldn’t see the flip side, that there is no Malaysian without the Chinese. Or, put in another way, Being Chinese is the only way for the Chinese to be Malaysian. It’s only that Umno’s politics have never permitted it. And now the DAP and Kit Siang are repeating the same fucking Umno idea.

Stupidly, Nurul Izzah talks of never repeating the BN model of politics…, under which the Chinese were never allowed to be truly Chinese. Corrupted versions of it, yes. Being Anglophile, yes but never being bukit Cina, whatever the fuck that is.

It is time the Chinese reclaim their identity and their political rights. Angel returning to KL is, at a fundamental level, an expression of this reclamation. That is, being Chinese is not wrong nor sinful nor politically incorrect. It is the only thing left to rejuvenate the nation, like Angel’s contribution to relive and repopulate KL. It is the right thing to do because being Chinese cannot be antithetical to being Malay; Malay power could never negate us (neither as Malaysians nor, to begin with, as Chinese), tried as they did, first through Mahathir then PAS and now Islam.

On the contrary, being Chinese is absolutely necessary because to be one requires being ‘liberal’, human-ness, wholeheartedness, the ideas of 仁, 義, 信 and so on, all necessary for governing relations, and all of which are built into the Chinese consciousness, culture and hence identity. On the other hand, when whole populations are suppressed, their identities distorted and yanked out, nobody is going to give a shit for what is going to happen next.

Angel’s early, teenage life was symptomatic in the results of Umno’s handiwork which, and this must be said, is never found in other Chinese populations or societies outside Malaysia. The problems of being Chinese seem only peculiar to this fucked up country.

Today, at age 32, Angel is as contradictory as she was at 23; her individual problems stemming from the suppression of her identity are still there. (It is strange, humans, we the Chinese in particular, can take so much shit.)


One plausible cause is this: the ethnic suppression hasn’t stop. It continues 60 years later with all these motherfuckers: Mahathir, Zam (Zainudin Maidin), Kit Siang, even Anwar from the jailhouse, and then lower down, and much lower down, the like of Kadir Jasin, Hannah Yeoh, Sumisha Naidu, Lisa Ng, Sheridan Mahavera, Josh Hong, Steven Gan, and the Anglophile Thor Kah Hoong who wrote the Angel story, his mind and thoughts as fucked up as Angel is confused.

Go get a life Ah Hoong, as your Anglophile class would say. Or is it too late for you?




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Yellow men without White women#

Anglophile Malaysia, White Society

Malaysiakini is having a field day with this, But money can’t buy Jho love. In their hands, Steven Gan et al could feed the appetite and entertain their battalions of Anglophile subscribers, eliciting 221 comments, all, with few exceptions, in Manglish.

But, was it about love? The diamonds.

The short answer: Of course, not. Think about it, why not?

If it was about love, truly, why spent 25 million on stones especially if the money, since it was loaned, had to be returned to the banks, sooner if not later. Diamonds on Miranda Kerr is, in effect, a transfer of Jho Low’s loot, leaving not just a money trail but would be unhelpful for, and almost certainly disastrous to, the love that (Steven Gan assumes) bound their relationship. Miranda knowing about this, even if after the fact of the theft, would doom the relationship.

Miranda’s reputation wouldn’t be merely tainted as a result (like Leonardo DiCaprio’s) but such large sums of money involved invariably raises the suspicion, Was Miranda, since she benefited, a party to the fraud?

Such a scenario presumes, of course, that Low thought about it and is capable of thinking, both being unlikely. MBA types — Low graduated from Wharton —  are never thinkers, much less original thinkers. Though highly sought after in the job market (by the same graduates entrenched in these companies), they are like ponzi scheme peddlers, skilled in the craft of persuading you to part with your money then skimming off from the process of moving it around.

(To see what that means — skimming — go to Jynwel Capital which is typical and representative of the Low character MBA types. There it talks about ‘vision and values‘, as if they are in the clergy prophesy and soul salvation business. There it adopts the language of snake oil salesmen found identical to those in Goldman Sachs and peddled by analysts like Bagainda Razak then re-sold by Reuters and Bloomberg. Remember Baginda? Remember Bloomberg that helped Goldman distribute 1MDB bonds? Remember their so-called due diligence process that doesn’t care for the ethical reliability of borrowers, who these men are associated with, much less care where the money will end up?)

Back to the loot….

The money was never for Jho Low to keep because a loot on his person would be precariousness, even dangerous and especially incriminating. Money on Low is like a thief’s loot found in his bedroom.

On the other hand, money outside Low leaves behind a big question: to who does it belong?

Outside Low, an Umno propagandist such as Faisal Aziz, was bound to say, ‘What evidence is there to show that the money going into the diamonds belongs to 1MDB and not Low himself?’ DOJ’s document money trail is the not the same as establishing ownership of money — hence ownership of the diamonds — and this is the trust of Faisal’s claims. Besides, his rebuttal also means that until the money trail is independently and impartially verified (by the court, in this case), it remains speculation. The DOJ cannot have it both ways: take the proceeds to prove their case instead of following its present cause of action, prove case then take diamonds. This is clearly an abuse of the law.

Here though is the catch: Once Malaysiakini editors (those stupid Anglophiles) assume that it was love that bound the two, though for just a year, then money on Miranda is the same as money on Low. Such is the power of love and its inference. Malaysiakini has managed to lent Faisal a helping hand in his arguments: The money has to belong to Low or else it would be suicidal for his Love to support it with loot.

This way of seeing the diamonds in the Miranda-Low relationship parallels Low’s gift of 100 million ringgit pink diamond to Rosmah. On Rosmah’s person, loot is still outside Low. Malaysiakini editors straight away assume it is 1MDB money. But if one is for love, what’s the other? Why is love worth less?



Miranda: Oh, papa! I miss him so much, my Joey boy.

Papa: But he’s just a Chinaman in a bow tie.

Miranda: Bow ties don’t matter. Love does! The Chinaman Stevie Gan says love conquers all. I believe him.



Loot for Love?

Why only is it with Miranda must editors insist there is love? Perhaps because she is young, and Anglophiles can’t imagine another motivation other than love. Which comes to a next question: If the affair isn’t love, what is it?

For the answer, one has to go back to those editors again because they, and, frankly, a good portion of especially urban Malaysia, are after the same thing. Only the routes to the destination are different.

So, to examine Malaysiakini, examine the character quality of its subscribers, all of who are on display in their comments. Below are a random sample of 221 comments related to Low and Miranda on just two articles out of a dozen.

  • Jho Low thought he was smart. He has thought money can buy love. But no, he went to the wrong “shopping” centre!
  • This fat cinababi don’t know the horse face is long.
  • Ok ok, the fat boy spent a king’s ransom on these broads…but tell me, did he get any?
  • Tis jho low has got no shame.
  • My goodness! The fat arsed face cannot get girls on his own merits. He has to use the stolen money from the poor rakyat to satisfy his lust with beauties. What a champion of a criminal is he.
  • Is this a case of like father, like son in JLow family? Are the father and son / the whole family all involved in this hideous crimes against the people and country?

Those comments run through several common threads: racism, condescending, English moralising, and, of course, plain jealousy, that is, they won’t be saying the same things if they had 25 million to throw on a pretty White girl. On racism alone, Sumisha Naidu and Hannah Yeoh, these beacons of righteousness, are nowhere around to criticize the statements as ‘obscene’ and ‘racist’ that they did against Watsons.

Of course, Low isn’t alone who is keen to buy into White society.

Others hankering after it are a dime-a-dozen, adopting usually cheaper routes: Sumisha Naidu (through Australia’s ABC and shouting racism), Hannah Yeoh, Elizabeth Wong, Steven Gan & editors (Australian universities, shouting truth to power, liberalism), DAP’s Pujut Assemblyman in Sarawak (Australian citizenship), Petra Kamarudin (runaway, Manchester nasi lemak), Baginza Razak (another runaway, Oxford), Francis Yeoh (money and god, YTL and Jesus Christ, Wessex Water), Isa Samad & Felda (London hotels), Lim Kit Siang (European social democrats), Zaid Ibrahim (law), Tunku Aziz Ibrahim (Shell and Transparency Int’l), Syed Akbar Ali (Bach), Kadir Jasin (NST and Rolls Royce), Mahathir Mohamad (Buy British Last; who would have known, Britain was always first?) and every PAS towel head you can think of.

Shouting racism, shouting morality, debauchery and sin are all cost-free and safe ideological and religious ways to get into White society.

It’s the same if some White girl name Clare Rewcastle Brown starts shouting, ‘Hidup the Alis‘. Would Umno not sit up and make her honorary member as was Zakir Naik so made by Perkasa’s Ibrahim Ali? Mrs Brown could masuk Melayu the next day and Tony Pua would have one less white person for a white-credential support in England.

For a number of reasons, buying into White society has its uses, naturally. For that listen to PKR’s Wong Chen, while addressing the Hong Kong Foreign Correspondents Club. For him, White society is like an escape hatch, an insurance policy as it were. In case things go terribly wrong at home for him personally and his family, he has stashed away a nice tidy sum.

Lowly characters like Hannah and Sumi would be contented just to get into White society. (Notice how Anglophiles like Hannah often call her political opponents, ‘low class’ as if she has in mind some class standards without specifying which and where from if not English?)

With Low, though, Miranda wasn’t his only ticket into a White society: paintings, condos, you name it. Raised in a diet of scones and marmalade and on Wharton standards, he couldn’t possibly settle for just any class. And all the things he has picked up outside Malaysia show that preference: it has to be top society; it has to be high-street, Wall Street type, in the luxury class, something reflected in Miranda.

Anglophiles picking on Low because of Miranda is easily juxtaposed with what Americans have to say about the same thing: there is never, never, never such a condemnation from Americans over American fraudsters, say, Martin Shkreli (charged with securities, wire fraud) or Eric Conn (USD600 million, Social Security fraud). Shkreli also gave money away and has been described as (currently) the most hated man. But that’s it: who he sleeps with, white or black, isn’t fought over.

That Jho Low should want to buy into White Society is hardly news anymore but that love is, it reflects the inversion of Malaysian values. Every Anglophile wants in because at home, and in private, they felt it to be superior in countless ways to Malaysian society.

Yet they go around beating others against the same value system they so badly want: a whiter skin, blonde hair, white names (think Charles Santiago and Dennis Ignatius), a white government, white papers, white bridal gowns and, of course, white diamonds. Try dropping one of those things in front of Annabelle Lee: you think she won’t run after it with her life? It’s her ticket to London — after dropping by at the Amsterdam jewelers.

One last point remains to be cleared: Why would those editors and Anglophiles assume that love was primarily at stake between Miranda and Low?

The answer is easy. In tomes of western literature on Christian mythology and in English liberal and, hence, Anglophile culture sits the core of their values contained in the following dichotomy:

  • money and evil (Bible: ‘love of money is root of all evil’),
  • money and betrayal (Judas),
  • money and materialism (Jesus ransacking a pre-Jewish Mount temple),
  • money and devotion (Bible: why worry, even God feeds the birds),
  • money and women (D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley’s Lover),
  • money and impurity (only poor can afford to be good),
  • money and aesthetic culture (measured by works of art instead of, as with the Chinese, by education)….

But, none of the Malaysiakini subscribers (and editors) could ever get, or hope to get, anywhere near that which Jho Low had gotten: White society, white women, and all the things related thereto.


#Apologies to Hemingway, ‘Men Without Women‘ (Scribner)


Among the World’s Greatest Anglophiles

Below, spot the difference.


Malaysia White First, Chinese Second

The Great Anglophile above is Francis Yeoh of YTL on the occasion of a non-bow tie event. See how happy he is in white society home. ‘Great’ combines the elements of Christianity, the Englishness in his self-given name, his small English twang, remoteness from his roots and awareness, prejudices and bias, his general English imitative qualities… In a word, his racism.

When Yeoh bought Wessex Water, Englishmen were so incensed — and speechless in the face of a Chinese fart face — they could only manage this: Who the fuck is YTL? Yeoh must have been so disillusioned. He, stupid fucker like Jho Low, had missed this: Tried as he did, he wasn’t welcomed to White society. They didn’t want a Chinaman, no matter what he had named himself or if he believe in Jesus or how much money he has.

Malaysia never had great nationalists; its ruling class began and remain elitist (today, Tengku Razaleigh, Najib Razak, Tunku Aziz). All being English copycats, they invariably created a class and a cultural distance from the general mass that were, in turn, held together by little brown-skin racist generals to whom the elite depended upon for their political lives. The like of Perkasa is not a nationalist. It’s a fascist outfit pretending to be racial, and Zakir Naik proved it. PAS is also fascist but pretending to be religious.

Chinese can’t be Chinese because chauvinism is a badge of dishonor as opposed to being true to identity, a distortion in outlook that’s a consequence of English liberalism. Unable to differentiate between these two facets, their political class (Lim Kit Siang) were invariably Anglicized. Like the Malay elite, they were as incompetent as they were stupid, but with the distinction of looking down on the mass of Chinese without English as un-cultured and backward. Kit Siang’s Chinese Second (article; commentary) is reflection of his western politics gone berserk.

To ‘save Malaysia’ or voting Opposition is, really, keeping the same elites going, a mere exchange of one bunch of motherfuckers for another bunch, only more hypocritical. Hannah Yeoh being an example. They should be driven instead into the Malacca Straits.

Or, if you are so inclined, pray: Malaysia is going to crash. Allahuakbar!



Love Song Heard on the Western Shore

For Miranda… a blue blood Chinaman’s love song. Lyrics below:





还记得你 You still remember us?
答应过我不会让我把你找不见 You had promised, I won’t find you gone,
可你跟随 but you had follow
那南归的候鸟飞得那么远 the birds fly so far south,
爱像风筝断了线 out of sight, like a kite broken off its line.
拉不住你许下的诺言Should I hold you to your promise?
我在苦苦等待 To which, I wait in sorrow
雪山之巅温暖的春天 till the warm spring melt the snowy mountains.



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It doesn’t matter whether an opinion is correct; it always matters who holds it.

— Karl Kraus (1874-1936). Once described as the ‘master of venomous ridicule’, Kraus, an Austrian born in present day Czech Republic, had been nominated thrice for the Nobel literature prize.



Above, Clare screaming out of her lungs: “Listen to me, folks, here are my answers to your problems. Sin not, for God shall bring Sodom and Gomorrah upon you.” Note that her golden brown hair sits very well with yellow, the politically correct color of the day.

In another time, Mahathir Mohamad, below, would be Clare’s target, as it were, she’d call him all sorts of names, a dictator, an autocrat, even Hitler Ali, a man presiding over the ruin of mankind and the end of Malaysia. Today, though, they are joint saviors of the country.

So, what happened in between?

Might she, therefore, change her mind one day about Najib Razak? And about all the Malays as well, whom she calls ‘Comical Alis’. If she does change her mind, who might she wish to pick on as the next Paragon of Sin? Here’s one Clare: ‘The Ching Chongs‘…. It’s just a suggested title which, one must confess, was plagiarized. Below:

Ching chong Chinaman
sat on a rail.
Along comes a White man
to chop off his tail.

Those exact lines are from John Steinbeck’s ‘Cannery Row’ (1945); cannery as in a canning factory. Over to you, Mrs Brown….


Introducing Cannery Row to the Old Horse, eh, Clare? Or is it some profound book we hadn’t heard of? Teach us, our Venerable Laojie 老姐….


In Defense of the ‘Comical Alis’

Well into 2015 when Clare Rewcastle-Brown began publishing online 1MDB, she must have felt like a Julian Assange of WikiLeaks because, before that, who would have heard of Sarawak Report. Who would have cared anyway? Even the pigs didn’t, but not anymore. The Guardian now thinks a big deal of her; the British believing she, even alone, can take on entire governments, from the deserts to the jungles. She is one of them, after all: liberal, moralistic, puffed up, and with powers to change the world, themselves excepting, of course.

Today, Clare gloats. Nobody, it seems, can ‘snuff‘ her out. It would be a pass to governments worldwide: Clare Rewcastle-Brown is the people! The immediate cause of her jubilation is MYR130,000 (GBP 24,000) she had raised online from 500 ‘supporters’ out of the a world population of, shall we say, 6 billion? She calls the money ‘Justice Fund‘ which is for lawyer and court expenses arising from a defamation suit brought against her by one brown-skin Ali named PAS. (If Justice Fund is yet another ponzi scheme, like 1MDB, Malaysia is sucked in again, only this time by a White woman instead of some made-in-Wharton Anglophiles and Arabian towel heads.)

For the moment, return to 2015 because, by then, Clare must have sensed, like Assange, she could crush any government and not just the British ones (that is, British so long as it is not named after a Brown). This is the sort of power over not specific, influential individuals but especially entire institutions, indeed an entire way of life even if foreign to her.

Clare is no Kafka (against bureaucracy) nor Virginia Woolf (against reality). What she lacked in intellectual power she would make up with an instrument and something far less tangible. The first is called the Internet, the second is her left morality.

Delivering the second into the first, and from 12,000 km away, she would bring to Malaysia the western dichotomy of state versus individual. In this is the idea that anyone with a private life must have something to hide, a notion not far behind her Christian upbringing in which sin is a natural state — all are born into it; there is no escape. Privacy, thus, is the liberal version of the biblical story she would have heard since a child: don’t go the apple of that tree! When curiosity got the better of Eve and she did, there was the hidden Sin waiting.

In modern day terms, the end of (government) privacy is the end of dictatorship, exposed in all its hideous nakedness. There is a caveat to this demand: only individuals are entitled to privacy but not persons in the like of Najib Razak or Jho Low, even if any of them is not in government. Thus is Jho Low exposed in his sins, living up with White women, necking on board yachts, driveling his head into the tits of Paris Hilton. The Internet has never been a private place for safe chat room conversations.

In Clare’s double standards, privacy, so it appears, is something she bestows and is applicable only when it goes beyond the gates her own cunt. Other people are fair game because it is the righteous thing to do; that is, she is doing journalistic exposes; she is doing the world a favor; she is doing good deeds (however defined).

Out of this contradictory, morality ways of White society, what is considered acceptable conduct is therefore what Clare says it is. As in Karl Kraus (top of page quotation), western morality has always been who says it is, never if it is right or reasoned in. (In Chinese intellectual thought, we have always, always insisted on the opposite.)

This — her ultimate revolt against her upbringing — was long due. The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, declaring the end of western culture and the death of God, had seen it coming 100 years before Clare. That, all her Christian values being an utter sham, she becomes her own god. Being her own god is the 11th Commandment issued: Thou shall not fornicate with governments.

Thus is made universal a morality that had once belonged solely to her society and, from which it had arisen, the privacy that had only been applicable to her bedroom. Does it therefore surprise you that the Clares of England would spawn such like-minded Anglophiles as different in age and in background as Hannah Yeoh, Josh Hong, Sumisha Naidu and Annabelle Lee? Or in such duplicitous Malay characters as varied as Zaid Ibrahim, Ahirudin Attan, Mahathir Mohamad, then back down to unknown bigots like Eddy Daud?

In this upended, new moralistic, liberal order, Clare sees governments as an inherent Evil to be done away with and it didn’t matter if it isn’t her government: ‘I’m doing it for mankind’. She actually believes she is saving the world. (In Mahathir’s heydays when Clare hadn’t yet made a name for herself and when mankind was limited only to the British Labour party, Ahi Attan, duly reporting, would quote the Old Horse to condemn western interference in the Sarawak jungles, saying, ‘the West only want the Penans to study as museum pieces‘. Today, Mahathir wants Clare’s intervention.)

Because Clare’s entire moral existence survives only on the Net (Sarawak Report in particular), could she afford to step out of it? Of course not, because, if she did, she would fall apart; so frail is the Ego grown in the orchards of Eden.

Westerners never would have imagined that in their post-Christian world, they could have no crutches to lean on once they each made themselves god: the mind would be out of their bodies, and their God out of their souls. But, that it has happened simply showed that with privacy gone there can be no soul because it is the only thing private that there is left. The soul is the only place where all privacy finds refuge; it is the only thing internal to the person.

Out of sight, out of mind, as they like to say.

This result, brought ashore to Malaysia, is as unsettling as it is devastating. Unsettling because Najib Razak could find no refuge from Clare Rewcastle-Brown, Malays would become comical Alis, though we, the Chinese, raised in the ways of our ancestors and by Confucius, are inoculated against Clare’s apple poison.

And the devastation is this, the more Najib et al challenge her, the more determined Clare becomes. It’s her Life after all, so that the more exposes there is to expose, the more invigorating it is for her, proving the idea that once privacy falls onto the feet of Mrs Brown, it works in inverse relationship: the wider the world of Najib is prised opened, the greater is Clare’s success in violating the man’s closet.

But for all that to work, really work, Clare needs a relentless stream of digital information coming into her Apple laptop. Picture then a woman glued to her computer screen night and day waiting, under her new found freedom, to wake up the world to its own perils. It is another contradiction but, for her, there is simply no other better sustenance, pathetic as it appears.

Clare on the Net is like a girl play-dressing Barbie dolls on an App or a boy 24/7 hooked on Internet games. She would be too narcissistic (recall that God is her) to recognize her own failings and mistakes or simply to step back and be restrained about it all. That is, What if she is wrong? Wrong about Najib, about Malaysia, about its institutions. Perhaps, just perhaps, there is another explanation for those secretive, anti-private papers on which she overdoses herself. Truth, after all, is not necessarily a matter of pure numerical values.

But her morality permits nothing of the sort.

Even if she does come round to it, Clare, by which time, would have moved on, to another morality march, another conquest, other souls to save. Her sense of reality is too drugged by her goodness to be disentangled from it. More likely she would shrug it off her shoulders as an addition to life’s experiences: ‘Too bad, it happened to some Alis. I was only trying to do good‘.

With Clare, as with PAS mufti and imam towel heads, regret is a passivity. And, whether it is with Jesus or Mahathir or Mahathir’s Allah, God is never, never, never, never, never known to have expressed a regret; they are un-human after all.

Of course, now with 130K ringgit in her pockets, Clare could say, Malaysia invited her in as if she needed an invitation. White people, westerners, have never bothered to ask permission when they came to Malacca, Hong Kong or China. They don’t need an invitation. People like Clare see it as an inevitability, in political terms today, their ‘right’, because the message from her god is, ‘Go forth and multiply’.

Multiply she did. In Malaysia multiplying was easier than in any other country because its fields were long ago tilled with Anglophile souls, from Kit Siang to Hannah, from Mahathir to Zaid.

What to do?

Perhaps we should treat Clare and her ‘stories’ as just that, a whole funfair of existential provocations, in which, under a tent, there is a merry-go-round that you jump on and off, just for the hack of it. In such a Clare-induced world, everybody can be anybody, riding a horse one minute, unicorn the next, swinging here and there. Or, picture yourself inside a hall of mirrors then treat this Clare-induced reality as no big deal. That is, her stories are just a contortionist idea and when you’re done with the fun, we can say, that’s not us. Or, alternatively, see Clare as the clown in the ring. Her spectacle has to end some time when not soon so that we, the spectators, are bound to return to our lives, as banal as it is challenging but more real then the image of her wedded to a computer as she is driven in her illusion of saving the world.

Power though is on her side — the freedom of the Internet, so they say — and also because she alone defines morality. But we have this other source of power: it is the realization that, in the end, she will amount to nothing because, really, think about it, what could be more frivolous than a clown running a dog and pony show? It is, to say the least, unreal; it’s just a game.


Miranda Kerr

Miranda Kerr: In Clare’s society and in her value system, such a white woman fucked by a Chinaman would be considered sacrilegious not too long ago. Not true? Read it in Steinbeck. Sumisha Naidu, Anglophile at Channel News Asia, thinks so too: it would be ‘obscene’, as obscene as Watsons is obscene, she’d say.


Of course, a character such as Seet Li Lin, one of the second-tier 1MDB Singaporean operatives, is a motherfucker and, no thanks to Clare for pointing it out. Why? Because and note this: he, like Jho Low, was educated out of Clare’s value system and in her white culture, speaking like her and thinking in terms of ‘gaming’ the system (Li’s word). That man, also like Jho Low, even manages to toss around his name so badly you have to wonder which of the three words actually belongs to his family. While Clare is her own god, Li is his own father, and each of who is their own morality, going by their own rules. It’s freedom, you see.

Clare sits on Li’s flip side of the same White society coin, he to ‘game’ the system in one direction and Clare comes from the opposite side to expose it. In this collision, her ‘stories’ are peppered and laced with the same self-righteous morality (‘damning, eye-wateringly, extravagant, debauchery’) as Li’s reference to his self-centered individuality. As if that isn’t enough, Clare pitches her language to one of racial ridicule (‘Miranda’s pudgy admirer; the brass-necked, bumbling Alis’).

The problem always lay with the colored, not the Whites. So, where Miranda was concerned, Clare must have thought: How could a pretty White girl like her end up with such a fat, ugly Chinaman with an unpronounceable name. Such a racial thought cannot be a surprise: Sumisha Naidu, Indian paragon of White anti-racism and tilled in the grounds of Clare’s morality, made the exact same racist remark of Jho Low, asking the question not of him but her instead. How could Miranda…! But it isn’t a question.

As it was with Watsons against who Sumisha had railed against for racism all because the company wishes to sell some skin whitening gel that Indian girls wanted for beauty’s sake, Jho Low is also a marked man. Sumi, like Hanah Yeoh, like Clare, know how to veil their racism: when it is politically correct to do so.

There is no implying here that Clare’s so-called ‘stories’ served no political or legal purpose. But, given her racism (Comical Alis, Jho Low and Miranda) then her intent, purpose, and motives fall into question. Fundamental to which is her ethical standards: Since when has she been the benchmark of good conduct made applicable to all and sundry?

Clare the dubious narrator is made the more self-evident when she hides her own life in the shadows of the banner called Sarawak Report. Like the infamous Assange, hiding behind WikiLeaks, she has promoted herself as indispensable to her ’cause’ (whatever that is) so that, in the process, the image that emerges is a Clare Rewcastle-Brown as narcissistic as she is unreliable. For one thing, they do the same same western-styled public relations that they routinely condemn.

In less flattering terms, she is a hypocrite. And, like the early Scottish arrivals who, unemployed and unemployable at home, would enter Malaysia and find, to their surprise, that in this land they would be treated like some well-heeled half-icon, half-god. After which they would justify their presence to say they were building up the land, developing it for the good of tree-dwelling idiots, those Comical Alis.

Two hundred years on, Clare showed she still had learned nothing, not the history and not the people she today feigns to serve, and she is still as bigoted as she is racist, and never pausing to drive herself into the local consciousness. She even considers Malaysia her entitlement.

Little does she know that if she was going to call Malays names, it would give her away as the penultimate condescending bitch that she is. Who does she think she is? Did she not know that only the Chinese (and Indians) are entitled to call Malays names because this is our fight, not hers, and the Malays are our compatriots when not family. Clare ridicules the Malays, Clare answers to us.

White people and their stories matter little to us, and that we have had enough of their intrusions, their hypocrisy, their god, their morality, their irrationality.



Seet Li Lin (right) with Riza Aziz: one faces possible jail while the other has so far escaped public scrutiny.

Both men are as different as chalk and cheese, birthed in different societies then grew up in separate countries. So what brings them together? It can’t be just money. But soccer? Try, however, imagining something else, something deeper.


Neither Clare nor her White society has the monopoly on what is justice and fairness, or in differentiating frugality from accountability. Her notions of evil and good in conflict are also not ours. Such differences in our worldviews are for good reasons and, to see why, start with a simple question: by what standards does Clare imposes her morality on ours? Or, whose standards?

We believe our standards are rational, but not hers. And because values are the result of a rational endeavor then they can’t be universal either. And without this universality, our values are not White values; and, indeed, those that are held by Clare and propagated by her god are complete nut jobs.

Seeing as we are different, where then is Clare’s moral authority to decide if the squandering of 1MDB money is immoral for having spent on, she says, ‘debauchery’? If there is a failing in 1MDB, it would be our failure, by our standards, not hers.

Now, should the day happen we shoot Jho Low in the head we have no doubt she will flip around, do a somersault and scream human rights.

Clare, you are truly fucked up; so leave us alone, go back to school and get a real education. But then, of course, why should you listen to us? You are the superior one, the Laojie, after all, and in your eyes we are, if not Ching Chong Chinaman, just a bunch of Comical Alis deserving only of your contempt and derision. Besides, being superior, you believe, by telling us how to act, you are here to save us from ourselves.


Three Inches of Heaven 三寸天堂



青青子衿、悠悠我心 qing qing my collar qing

What we did to a 2,500-year-old poem


China in tumult some 2,500-old years ago, there were as many as 14 self-ruling states (map above) before these were whittled down to five then three and leaving finally the Qin dynasty. This era, known as the Warring States, was also one of the most immensely productive, spawning the works of Confucius, Laozi, Sima Qian, printing, metallurgy (weaponry) and agricultural innovations (canals and systematic irrigation). Thrown into this range were lots of poetry and, thanks to numerous historians, they have been handed down to us.

These poems, even in their present-day translations, read remarkably modern-day. One of which that endured is simply known as, innocent enough, The Collar 子衿, today anthologized in the 诗经 shijing, or The Book of Songs, one of the five most important classics surviving from that era.

The actual poet is still a mystery. What we know is that the poem came from the State of Zheng. That it endured is owed to its terseness, down-to-earth simplicity, its repetitive, sing-song quality and especially its theme, the longing for the return of one’s love. It meant that the poet is very likely a woman, educated, of course, and perhaps the daughter of a high ranking official employed in the palace because the lines mentioned of her waiting at the gate walls looking out.

In Beijing today, artistes and film directors have taken the same poem and, without altering a word, staged the poetry into a dance and theater, with the entire enterprise resting solely on its three couplets. Here it is below, and there is nothing like this in the western literary world or its theater (watch on full screen):



The poem’s title in Chinese is, 诗经·国风·郑风·《子衿》, in translation ‘Shijing, National style of the State of Zheng, The Collar.’ This is not as long as you think.

Because China is a warehouse of ancient literary works, these have to be categorized. Thus, for this particular poem it is identified first by its published source, that is, the 诗经 shijing, or The Book of Odes, also called Book of Poetry or Songs. This published source-name is followed by the stylistic origin of the work, in this case, the National style of the State of Zheng or 国风·郑风. Finally, the poem title itself, The Collar 子衿 zijin.

The lines, in traditional form and its pinyin version, read (source is here):

青青子衿、悠悠我心。 qīng qīng zǐ jīng,yōu yōu wǒ xīn
縱我不往、子寧不嗣音。 zòng wǒ bù wǎng,zǐ nìng bú sì yīn

青青子佩、悠悠我思。 qīng qīng zǐ peì, yōu yōu wǒ sī
縱我不往、子寧不來。zòng wǒ bù wǎng, zǐ nìng bù lái

挑兮達兮、在城闕兮。 tiǎo xī dá xī, zài chéng què xī
一日不見、如三月兮。 yí rì bú jiàn, rú sān yuè xī

In translation (by shuzheng):

qing qing my collar qing, echo echo my heart throbs.
if I go not to you, might you not at least send me word?

qing qing your pendant qing, echo echo my mind rings.
if I go not to you, might you not at least come to me?

standing at the gate tower I look out into the distance.
one day not seeing you seems now like three months long.

Because hanzi is monosyllable, its poems are best sung, as much as they ought to be read aloud. This practice is still used today in the Chinese schools in Malaysia where bigoted Anglophiles (Khoo Kay Peng, Lisa Ng) and ignorant Malays, seeing and hearing it, scorn at the recitation as rote-learning. But, the poem, delivered in this way, produces a deep sense of intense longing as if the poet, pleading to her love with her life and on her knees, finds her personal loss quite unendurable.

The title itself is very queer and so is the first line, 青青子佩、悠悠我思 qing qing my collar qing. This mystery is lifted once you think about it: What hangs round a neck collar and makes a chiming sound?

This object, a pendant, which had left a deep mark and triggered the sorrow, might have been the only possession he had left with her before leaving. But, why pendant? One guess is this: the man is probably a soldier, an army officer who must leave behind his civilian ornaments before going to war. That, or they were just married or engaged.

Did he return? There is no knowing because no other poem from the poet came down to us. Furthermore, the State of Zheng, today Henan and surrounding parts, was eventually overtaken and seized by Zhou.

Below is an upbeat version without any attempt to convey the emotion in the poem.



Artifacts developed during the Warring States


Left side are bamboo strips, resident today in a Shanghai museum, that were used during the Warring States period. The right side is the rendering in the modern hanzi written form.


On display in China: model of the recoiling trebuchet, precursor to today’s artillery. Below, currencies and sword.



Painting on lacquer ware from the State of Chu (704–223 BC). Note that 4-color printings were already available then.


Garment ornament made from carved jade. Origin of state unknown. The above poem zijin was referring to one of these sorts of ornament.


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Something ain’t right with the title. Shouldn’t it be:

Ahi’s Hot Prick!


What’s the difference between that man in the clip below and Ahi and Sumi and ISIS?

None. There is zero difference in the attitude and Islamic worldview between the Turkish man and, running on a spectrum of Muslim bigotry, ISIS and PAS to Jakim and Ahirudin Attan or Annie of the Valley. For the simple reason, Islam isn’t for moderation; if it were, it won’t mean Submission.

But Ahi of Rocky Bru? The pig-tail liberal Malaiyoo motherfucker?

Yes, that motherfucker. Some time ago, also a Ramadan month, he complained at Rocky’s Bru that Chinese girls on the streets were dressed ‘insensitive’ (heard that word?) to Malaiyoos on supposedly a ‘holy’ month. (BTW, how does a month in a calendar become ‘holy’? Anyone know?)

And insensitive? Like the Turkish man seated behind the girl, Ahi called out on the girls, the Chinese, who wore hotpants! Tak malu, he’d say.

How then will Ahi make sure Chinese girls dress ‘sensitive’ for his sake and for Malaiyoos. Rape them? Go round town slapping people? Or, as with Jakim, put them in jail? Or, like ISIS, behead them (after the rape)?

(As an aside, we say to Ahi: try touching a Chinese girl and we’ll see what happens to you, motherfucker. Remember the Malaiyoo Uber driver?)


Najib’s Umno pre-paids; at one time they belonged to Mahathir when they don’t belong to PAS. These media motherfuckers; like the Malay prostitutes of Golok, and at a price, you can buy them any time. Own them you can make them quack. Or grunt like a pig.


Ahi taking bids for a selfie fund-raiser: “Seven thousand kali ini, ten thousand esok.” Big Fat Dog thinks it’s funny.


Sumisha Naidu, Ahi’s inheritor, not only of the same kind of prostitute media job but especially his entire worldview and value system and racist bigotry. Indeed, a whole white man’s way.

Sumi, go fuck Ahi — naturally, you’ll have to take off your hot pants. You got any hot pants, Yes? What about your color? It will show: so dark!


With these Malaiyoos, they, beginning with Anwar Ibrahim, imported an Arabian god named Allah and therefore brought in a whole war that had nothing to do with this part of the world. And all for what? To control the Chinese?

The Chinese were the least trouble, we knew our position in life. But, in Britain as elsewhere in Europe, Muslims arriving from Africa and Arabia have now told those White indigenous settlers: “We are taking over.” (Below.) Like Malaiyoos in Malaysia, they have declared themselves, the bumi; the native becomes the pendatang.

Matters of race and religion are not for debate because if these were matters of reason, then ISIS won’t exist (and the clip below wouldn’t have turned up), Jakim won’t be necessary, Hadi Awang dead, and Ahi would have been out of business long ago, he would have nothing to report — or blog.

This business of moderation, that is, reason, reminds of a judge trying a Malaiyoo for raping a White girl tourist in Annie’s Johor: In steaming hot Malaysia, the judge reasoned, she was insufficiently dressed. Therefore? She should take a part — provocation, the main part — of the blame.

In Malaysia, as in the Islamic world, is an inversion of reason: pendatang becomes the bumi; crime is the fault of the victim. Such a notion, finally wounding its way to the top of society, is no different should Najib Razak steal another 40 billion tomorrow. Najib: It can’t be my fault if the money is lying around enticing me. I am doing it for Islam anyway, for Umno, for Malaiyoos.

Some crimes have thus become non-crimes if you can offer justification, in Najib’s case, for a greater cause, and the greater is what Umno says it is. Other crimes become acts of righteousness when Islam is invoked and because Allah was supposed to have said so. (Long before Najib, Mahathir Mohamad led the way in this form of perverse reasoning. He still does.)

In this way, the Turkish man will argue his justification — his righteousness — for slapping anybody he dislikes, so that, arrested one minute, he is let off the next. Like he, Ahi would act, and all the Alis, and Sumisha Naidu…. Act because they are protected, not by law, not even by their reasoning, but by their immorality, the same immorality shared by judges, by policemen, found in Umno, in Najib Razak, in Mahathir. Evil becomes the ultimate good: we have arrived.

Importing wholesale this thinking, Malaysia also imports, in its entirety, a Christian-Muslim war, a Caucasian war, as Najib is today actively doing, Saudi Arabia, Syria, Yemen. Of this war, think Marawi in the Philippines (that country because of its Christianity) where guns fire away at full blast; no going back for those Pinoys. Moderation comes out of the barrel of the gun; the dead: either you or I.

Importing this value system, Malaysia raises even more bigots and, among them, a person like Sumisha (above) makes sure she stands out.

In Malaysia, thus, this value system inversion means, the more bigoted you are, the more righteous, the louder you must shout, the more faces you must slap (recall Mat Over), the more heads to chop. Criminality becomes a function of Islamic holiness, or (Sumi styled) self-righteousness.

Is there a fundamental difference then between Sumi and the Turkish motherfucker? Of course not. To Sumi, to Ahi, the Malaiyoo judge, the Turkish, the Arabs, et al other people cannot be beautiful. Only the values of Ahi and Sumi must prevail and prevail over other people.

Then to impose their bigotry they go round blaming others for their assaults, online and off, like the judge. Or like Sumi, her racism is the fault of girls who like fair skin; like Ahi, his racial intolerance is the fault of ‘insensitive’ Chinese girls with a great looking ass. Perhaps, when all that doesn’t work, they will want to chop heads as well, easy after all if heads are on people who can’t fight back.

Want to try it, Ahi, chop heads? Don’t push your luck, Malaiyoo boy; you don’t know your station in life.



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The Duck in Sumi

Attention men! Would you pick her for a mate? Your answer…


Why Sumisha Bitches about Other Women’s Beauty

Extrapolated from the interview, below, is an attempt at a scientific, Darwinian answer as to why so often it is dark skin Indian women (think Sumisha Naidu, above) who mostly bitch and whine about the beauty in other women and in these women preferring fairer skins.

It is an evolutionary thing: Dark skin Sumisha will be out-competed. That is, she worries she can’t find a mate, someone for a fuck, someone to father the children. Her solution: Put down other women, the fairer and the prettier ones, so she’d get a leg up, her legs.

How so? What’s the evolutionary mechanism in eliminating the competition by her method? Answer: It has to do with the aesthetics in procreation. Deploying the western ideological weapons of race and sexism, she fights the competition for mates with things she doesn’t have: beauty and a fair skin. In short, she played dirty, like baboon males will play dirty and kill babies. (See the interview.) And playing dirty, she exposes the filth and ugliness in her inner self, an internal component in the armory of aesthetics. Even the ducks knew about this component and uses it to their advantage and not disadvantage, unlike Sumi.

Sumi, you see, is fighting Nature. She resembles a baboon, not only in her appearance, but especially in her conduct.

To be fucked, yes, Sumi, but do you know anything about aesthetics? Read on


The curly thing is the penis.


The Evolution of Beauty

…and its uses in procreation and survival. Lessons from the ducks.

SPIEGEL: Professor Prum, among all the wonders of nature you were most inspired by the sex of ducks. Why?

Prum: For a long time, I have been fascinated by the sex life of birds. But there is probably no other species where the deep sexual conflict between male and female sex is as blatant as in ducks.

SPIEGEL: And so you started studying their genitalia?

Prum: No, it was actually even more simple than that. I had a prospective post-doctoral student who was looking for something to do, and she was interested in studying genitalia. I said to myself: Well, I have never worked on that end of the bird before. As a result, we studied duck sex intensively for six, seven years.

SPIEGEL: What surprised you most?

Prum: Oh, there were many surprises. Not the least that we had all these descriptions of duck genitalia, and when we looked ourselves, we said: There is almost nothing to see. How could this be? That is how we discovered that the genitalia of ducks regress and regrow each year, so that a 10- or 15-centimeter penis in the summer will reduce to less than 1 centimeter in the winter and then grow back the next year.

SPIEGEL: This is part of the sexual conflict you mentioned before?

Prum: Yes, indeed. Mate choice occurs first. In winter the males do these elaborate displays, and the females choose the one they like most. Because, parallel to the evolution of the males’ display behavior, the females have evolved preferences for these displays. We call this “coevolution.”

SPIEGEL: So far, this sounds quite harmonious.

Prum: Yes, it is. The pairs stay together until the clutch is laid and the females incubate. The conflict part comes next. Because now some of the males pursue an alternative mating strategy, which is to violently enforce copulation. For this they make use of their penis, which is regrown by now. This penis is a very bizarre structure. It is counterclockwise coiled, and erection takes place in less than half a second. Erection, penetration and ejaculation in ducks is one and the same event, and it happens very, very rapidly.

SPIEGEL: How do the females react?

Prum: It’s very interesting. Of course, in the short run, females struggle to escape from forced copulations. But in the long run, female ducks coevolve vaginal morphologies for the purpose of preventing forced intromission (or insertion of the penis) — sort of dead end cul-de-sacs and a series of clockwise spirals that have a chiral (or non-superimposable) mismatch with the shape of the penis. These are literally anti-screw devices.

SPIEGEL: Why all this effort? Wouldn’t it be easier to just give in to the aggressor’s assault?

Prum: To understand this, you have to consider the evolutionary mechanisms involved: If the female gets the mate she likes, then her offspring will inherit the green head and the quack-quack-quack, all those displays that she likes so much. And since all other females have coevolved to prefer those same traits, her sons will be very successful and she will have lots of grandchildren from him. But if she’s fertilized by force, then some random male will father her kids, which means that her offspring are less likely to inherit the attractive traits that she and other females like. That means fewer grandkids. Therefore, evolution will favor any mutation that allows her to get her own choice — for example by protecting her vagina against forced sex.

SPIEGEL: Are you saying that nature works to protect female rights?

Prum: You can put it like that. Sexual autonomy matters to animals. It’s not just a political idea invented by feminists, but an evolved feature of social species.

SPIEGEL: In other words, nature created a sex that is focused on autonomy and another that is focused on violence — a good and an evil sex?

Prum: You are right: In our world, we do associate violations of autonomy with abuses of power. But this doesn’t mean, of course, that there are ethical standards among ducks as there are among humans. Females are not the inherently more ethical sex, but it is just that there is something about female reproduction that limits the potential for the sexual abuse of power.

SPIEGEL: Somehow birds seem to be particularly successful in achieving their sexual autonomy. Among them, female mate choice is more common than among other animals. Why?

Prum: For a very simple reason: Unlike ducks, 97 percent of birds cannot be forcibly fertilized, because the males don’t have a penis. Copulation in most birds is achieved by a cloacal kiss, just an apposition (or touching) of orifices. So, to be fertilized, the female has to actively take up the sperm, which means that she retains full control of her sexual choice. By the way, I think this is the essential reason why birds are so beautiful. Since they have the freedom of choice, females exhibit aesthetic preferences. And, as a result of these preferences, males developed amazingly elaborate ornaments.

SPIEGEL: Does that mean beauty arises wherever there is female mate choice?

Prum: Wherever you have mate choice, period — not necessarily because the females are choosing. There are examples of male mate choice, or mutual mate choice as well. Take puffins for example. They court each other with elaborate displays, and therefore both sexes look the same. They both have the same colorful beaks and the same preferences for these beaks.

SPIEGEL: How about humans? Does our conception of beauty also stem from mate choice?

Prum: I’m convinced it does. Socrates was interested in Eros as the source of art and beauty, but it is important to be aware that our sense of aesthetics was reinvented over the course of human evolution. Because looking at the lives of chimpanzees and gorillas, our nearest relatives, we don’t see much evidence for sexual choice. In chimpanzees, males will pursue every sexual opportunity they get and females will acquiesce to every sexual request made to them.

SPIEGEL: And because chimps are sexually indiscriminate they don’t have any sense of beauty?

Prum: Yes, I think their lives are basically devoid of the aesthetic.

SPIEGEL: How did this transformation happen — when did beauty enter our world as humans?

Prum: This question is very difficult to answer. But just posing it already represents substantial progress. If you look in any current textbook of human evolutionary biology you will find that mate choice as a topic is almost entirely absent.

SPIEGEL: Do you think it was more likely to have been the males or the females that introduced mate choice into human evolution?

Prum: Initially, it was the females, for sure. Males didn’t need to become choosy until they were actively engaging in the upbringing of their offspring. And that happened much, much later.

SPIEGEL: What do you think were the criteria for female choice then?

Prum: Well, we don’t know for sure, of course. But I propose that the main male ornament females were selecting for was social personality itself.

SPIEGEL: Which essentially just boils down to the question: Do I like him?

Prum: You name it. And this leads us to aspects of personality that we usually don’t imagine as sexual ornaments like humor, empathy or the ability to conceive of someone else’s mind.

SPIEGEL: You think it was intrinsic values rather than outward appearances that mattered?

Prum: Let me say one thing about outward appearance. One feature that I think was transformed by female mate choice is the reduction of male canines. It is very notable that the males of other primate species have deadly weapons in their faces that humans lack. And the question is: Under what conditions do males give up their weapons? Well, believe me, in the United States we know how difficult it is to solve this question. But evolutionarily, there is a simple answer: when wearing weapons becomes unsexy.

SPIEGEL: You are suggesting that women were attracted to small teeth?

Prum: Yeah, and I even think that this is where our smile comes from. It is a sexual symbol advertising one’s state of de-weaponization.

SPIEGEL: Do you think that our ability to fall in love was another innovation of human evolution?

Prum: Yes, I do think that sexual love has evolved distinctly in humans and doesn’t exist in other apes. But we probably share with them the emotion of maternal love for our offspring, and very similar hormonal mechanisms might be engaged there.

SPIEGEL: How about birds? Some pairs seem to engage in very deep, lifelong bonds.

Prum: Well, I can’t say for sure. But I find it not unjustified to speculate that some long-term bonds among birds might be similar to what we experience as love. This is the problem with all current attempts to biologically describe love: In evolutionary biology textbooks, you’ll see pair bonding analyzed in terms of game theory. Who’s got most of the resources, who’s cheating whom, what’s the right strategy to maximize your benefit, and so on. Which means that, instead of falling in love, we should all go to a lawyer’s office and draw up prenuptial agreements. But human mating isn’t anything like that. What’s missing from that analysis of human reproduction is the aesthetic. And it’s clear that if love is anything, it’s a deeply emotional and deeply aesthetic experience.

SPIEGEL: But are you sure that the aesthetic experience of birds and the aesthetic experience of humans are the same phenomenon? After all, a peacock hen’s sense of beauty is exclusively directed towards the appeal of a peacock tail, whereas we find beauty not only in our partner but also in flowers or landscapes or art.

Prum: I agree, the richness of human aesthetic experience is unparalleled. But still it is amazing how complex and diverse the aesthetic interests of birds can be. Take bowerbirds, for example, which build seduction theaters where they present objects for females. (He pulls a photo out of a pile on his desk.) Here, on this photograph, you can see one of those arenas. Look, what he has exposed: Those are red flowers, that is a bunch of black charcoal. A pile of blueberries is over here and shiny black beetles over there. That green stuff is a rotten log permeated with a spongy green fungus. And you’re are telling me that his sense of beauty is limited?

SPIEGEL: But this is an exception.

Prum: I’ll give you another example: Many birds learn their song, and some birds even mimic the songs of other birds. There’s one species in South America, the Lawrence’s thrush, of which there are individuals with repertoires of over 170 species of birds. And they don’t imitate the sound of water, they don’t imitate insects. They imitate other birds, because their songs are of aesthetic value to them. Or here is another one: A researcher in Sweden discovered a marsh warbler singing a song of a bird from its wintering grounds in Uganda. This warbler introduced aesthetic content from another continent into the acoustic environment of Europe. I can’t imagine anything that humans could do that is aesthetically as fascinating as that. And who knows, may be the female that listens to that song will experience nostalgia, remembering the winter holiday in Uganda?

SPIEGEL: From an evolutionary perspective, how essential was the sense of beauty to modern humans? Is it the driving force that made us humans?

Prum: I wouldn’t go that far. But I am convinced that the development of aesthetic preferences was an important prerequisite for human evolution, because it was sexual selection that transformed our aggressive, weaponized maleness into a socially tractable form. Don’t forget: The average male primate is an infanticidal psychopath waiting for his moment. Whenever a male baboon wins control over a group of females, the first thing he will do is to murder all the dependent, breast-feeding babies because that gives him a sexual opportunity. Otherwise he would waste a lot of time while she’s nursing the babies of another male.

SPIEGEL: And females made them give up this bad habit by choosing more good-natured males?

Prum: Yes. Solving the infanticide problem was the biggest hurdle in human evolution. Infanticide is the single largest source of infant mortality in gorillas and chimpanzees. Approximately 30 percent of all infant deaths are the result of infanticide by males. On the other hand, everything that is special about human biology requires greater investment in longer childhoods — whether it’s complex cognition, language, culture or technology. None of that could possibly have evolved if a large portion of babies are being murdered by sexual violence.

SPIEGEL: How did females solve this problem?

Prum: Just as in ducks. Among the many varieties of new preferences that might arise among females, evolution favored those that enhanced female sexual autonomy and reduced male sexual control. And that is how male weapons were gradually chipped away and male dominance behavior was weakened.

SPIEGEL: And from that point onwards there were no more impediments for conquering the planet?

Prum: One thing is sure: Solving the infanticide problem is one of the main reasons humans have grown to dominate the planet while gorillas and chimpanzees are going extinct in the jungles in Africa.

SPIEGEL: Professor Prum, we thank you for this interview.

Richard Prum, 55, is a curator at the Peabody Museum of Natural History at Yale University in Connecticut. He has spent decades researching the courtship behavior of birds. He found an inexhaustible variety of methods with which males solicit the pleasure of their female mates. In his new book, “The Evolution of Beauty,” the ornithologist seeks to find out how this opulence came about.

Isn’t she pretty, Sumi. Fair skin also, and she sings well, aesthetically well. Go ahead, Sumi, listen to her sing and watch. Beautiful in so many respects. She’s going to do well — in her evolution. You?

You look like a fucking duck, your nose too big, face too dark, and even inside yourself you’re ugly — truly a bitch.

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Thanks for the trouble. Nice, very nice, FT: colorful, precise, well illustrated. But, where is it in the charge? Where is even the charge sheet?

As they say in the movies: Move along folks, nothing to see … but below.



Inscription outside a China courthouse today: the two characters means, simply, People. This is in contrast to western (Malaysia included) concepts wherein Justice 義 yi (pix further up) is an end. In China and in Chinese traditions, we say this is wrong: Justice is purely the means; People is the purpose of justice and it is only with that in mind is justice served and not be corrupted.

In this regard, Malaysia is classic as an example: Everywhere today, in every circumstances, we see the corruption of people because justice (or fairness) failed.

Neither Najib Razak nor Umno (nor Anwar Ibrahim, nor Mahathir Mohamad) could properly understand what this sweep of injustice entailed. They see only a Chinese tsunami as an expression of ‘ungratefulness’ (the Umno and Utusan word) without cause.

Because of Confucianism/Daoism, the Chinese have a deeply imbued self of fairness and justice so that, in truth and in fact, the GE event was a massive Chinese revolt against injustice everywhere and in every facet of life. This being so, the appearance of 1MDB has to be treated not independently, as an aberration — like it happened only because of Najib — but within a larger context. The rot that is Malaysia is congealing, and fast. But it is also a great and wonderful opportunity to reset everything. Get it wrong though, we are back to square one, or worse. A sword cuts two sides: Don’t get into the wrong one.


In the traditional writing form, yi 義 or justice/fairness is a compound word and repeatedly mentioned in the time of Confucius and Laozi. It is composed of two words, lamb yang and an individual person wo. Yi‘s etymology isn’t quite clear; it first appeared 5,000 years ago then repeated by subsequent historians such as Sima Qian. Later when the word was sequestered by arriving Christian preachers (those motherfuckers), its association with the Christian conception of a sacrificial lamb became to us very uncomfortable. Reason: lamb is sacrificed as an expression of loyalty to a fictitious god? This is utterly false — and useless as a virtue.

To us, the Chinese and our ancestors, Justice, in its final expression, might require that an individual, such as a general serving the emperor or a minister or any public official, once disgraced would sacrifice himself like a lamb. Hence, with word and concept in the hands of the Japanese, in particular, injustice and, from it, shame ends in a seppuku, the act of killing oneself by disembowelment with a knife. The way a lamb is slaughtered.

Of course, no Malay, no Anglophile, nor Najib nor Jho Low (nor a White man) would do a seppuku. They have no shame nor little sense it. And why should they? They have Allah’s forgiveness, and Jesus Christ as well. This forgiveness thing… bah!

In ancient China, legal rules demand that any kleptocrat caught thieving would be executed forthwith. No trial, no seppuku.


Justice and 1MDB, Najib and the Americans

With so much evidence, why isn’t Najib prosecuted?


When they came, Umno’s responses, and the government’s, to the US Department of Justice were as thick as they were fast. Then, as sudden as were the deluge, they abruptly stopped other than to accuse a foreign conspiracy. (Nothing new there.) It is as if realizing, belatedly, people like Rahman Dahlan were simply peeing on poor Najib Razak and wife.

Nothing in DOJ’s latest deposition mentioned the two names, as if not even caring to grab the diamonds and gems she has locked up somewhere. Mostly it was about Jho Low, Riza Aziz, some Muslim Arab towel heads, and the reputation of Leonardo DiCaprio.

On the other hand, the government’s responses merely gave Clare Rewcastle-Brown and others something to mock at: What a bunch of stupid assholes. Comical Alis, she called them; comical being the stupidity; Ali the asshole, Malaiyoo, of course. (Strange, neither Kadir Jasin nor Ibrahim Ali nor Mahathir Mohamad, these great defenders of ‘sovereignty’ and ‘Malay dignity’, responded to this omputih, foreign, white girl interference and assault on the representatives of a ‘glorious’ Malay culture.) That white girl Clare had named Apandi Ali and Hishammuddin Hussein in particular.

We, the Chinese, say

鸟儿唱歌不是因为他们有了答案坦因为有个要唱 ‘Birds sing not because they have the answer but because they have a song’.

And so it is with the guilty as well, and the thieves, and Umno, ex and present.

Which then raises the question: why isn’t Najib, the man where the buck stops for 1MDB’s MYR50 bn money, investigated, named in the deposition, then charged? Malaysiakini took a stab at the answer (to justify the subscription you took out), but they just went round and round in circles without answering the question.  It was pathetic.

Hisham had a point which, really, is the bottom line at stake. Worse for the Opposition, his answer, is reinforced by the fact that not one person connected in any way to Najib has been criminally prosecuted. Not even in Singapore.

As a consequence, the Sarawak Report, Malaysiakini, the western media  and numerous others could go on and on and on and on and on about the so-many countries investigating 1MDB as if this was proof enough. To say Najib is Thief Number One is the easy part. But proving it was altogether different because not a single one of those investigations, including the DOJ’s, produced a thief. (Those bankers jailed in Singapore are not the thieves; they are the fence for the loot.)

Not one investigation strikes at the heart of 1MDB: Najib.

Why not? Especially since it is so plainly clear that 1MDB is set up for fraud in its design and reporting structure. Then, again, there is its unrivaled ability to raise USD10 bn (MYR40+ bn), almost all overseas, and to have these monies moved around, from one end of the world to another, as vigorous and as determined as the royal Malay sperms of Raja Petra Kamarudin swimming upstream in Manchester.

Instead all the banks, without exception, big and small, from Goldman Sachs and Deutsche to Falcon, an unknown before the 1MDB, would sit back and let it all take place, not once but multiple times spread over 7 years. They even help it along.

Is it because of Najib, with an influence so deep and global, more powerful than the President of the USA? If not, then how could seven years of racketing a ponzi scheme take place all the while without Najib being plainly in sight and detected! The same could be asked even today when everything is out.

But let’s take a stab at the answer to the title-question which, really, isn’t hard so that, after which, one can see why, even in the most influential country, the US, Najib is not named, prosecuted much less?

Begin with the fundamental task of discovery: what or where is the crime?

1MDB is a remarkably straightforward case: around MYR 40 bn was raised solely overseas (MYR50 bn plus all in) and these monies did not go into specific projects with the Saudis nor with the other Arab towel heads. Some of the money was turned into Edra and Bandar Malaysia. All the overseas projects were a flop; but why is this a crime?

Looked at in this way allows us to ask, If Jho Low et al was never caught living up with diamonds or cunts (white ones at that), at casinos, in bars and on yachts, then the mental picture of money as a hedonistic fuel for immorality won’t exist. Without this mental picture, the crime of MYR40 bn lost in some Arabian towel-head projects would be just that. We all would be wiser for it and, so, end of story.

That is, in another phrasing, the gradual, accumulated imagery of 1MDB growing from failed projects to money squandered (Mahathir: money ‘missing’; Tony Pua’s suit: malfeasance) and then to this, which is something remarkably familiar and, therefore, easy to pin down. With white women, diamonds, yachts, paintings and luxuries all around, 1MDB’s past and projects came together to create a morality problem, Christian and Anglophile in value system and scope. Now money, or crime, if there is one, had a purpose: It is called Hedonism.

Hedonism would be a cultural infringement in Anglophile Malaysia, or the US, but not in another cultural context which prefers to look at how money is acquired and not how it is spent. Which explains why the imagery of white women and liquor don’t matter much to the Japanese or Korean or Chinese media (SCMP isn’t Chinese; it’s Anglophile and gweilo), and not even among Arabs and Muslims who were distinctly involved. (Arab princes live on white women all the time.)

Flipped around, hedonism gave impetus to the discovery of crime. Or, in another way of saying the same thing: money is the established, the given, hand maiden of the immorality Hedonism. With money laced into Hedonism, a legal idea emerges and crime is born. Or needs to be.

Now that White girl Clare has discovered money in the crime — along with crime’s purpose — the next thing to ask is, what crime? Which is simply to paraphrase a technical, legal issue: what kind of crime?

This is the thing that vexes everyone, from Najib to his sycophants (people like Ahi Attan is repeatedly asking, where is the crime?) and from Mahathir to Tony Pua and Umno’s kampung coconut heads.

All the convictions in Singapore were related to breaches of (central bank) regulatory compliance — not statutory law — all under the umbrella of money laundering.


Innocent passage is an old feature of ancient China, governing movements of civilians, troops, goods and money across border regions, much terrorized by those marauding Mongolian and Turkic-speaking tribal barbarians in the north. In these areas, Chinese have right of passage. Violations would incur the wrath of the emperor’s troops and total war. And you, the Malaiyoos, don’t want to get in between.


Money laundering wasn’t seriously considered a crime until 9-11 when urgency grew into the task of tracing sources of money that were fed into terrorist cells or derived from narcotic sales. In those considerations, it was merely enough to cut off the middle process, sitting in the center connecting the financing, the source of money, and its end use.

This middle process is no more and no less the banal, normal human activity of taking a man’s salary, deposit it in a bank, then withdrawing it to buy groceries. So to call this activity money laundering is to cast illegitimacy not in the middle process — which would end all modern human activity — but to disconnect or severe the two ends of it: the source of money and its uses.

DOJ money laundering cases began with terrorism and drugs. Its kleptocracy unit was added on and so fairly new, perhaps because some government finances (Central America for example) were fueled by drugs. Conversely, the world’s biggest exporter of terrorists, the family state of Saudi Arabia is never investigated because its money is legit — oil. To drugs, kleptocracy investigation into money laundering or prosecution were added money sourced and passed through the US from bribery (Marcos of the Philippines) or theft and buying of state secrets (allegedly North Korea).

Legitimacy of money source and use thereof is important because it is only with illegitimacy that a simply transaction between two banks or between bank and individual is turned into money laundering. Which is, for dirty money to turn up and look clean.

Question: Is 1MDB money even dirty to begin with? This is where Malaysia’s kleptocracy case is remarkably different from all others: those motherfuckers (helped by Tim Leissner) actually raised the money in the open market, from loans and from bond sales, US ones at that. And all are legit.

This has the knock-on implication that, if money laundering is a crime because money came from an illegitimate activity then where is the illegitimacy in 1MDB fund sourcing?

To deal with this problem between legitimacy and illegitimacy is why Singapore avoided direct application of money laundering statutory law. Its next best thing was merely to get the fencers, the enablers, the banks and so on, by using breaches of reporting and compliance rules when money came in and money went out.

Why didn’t the US do the same as with Singapore? It could, but that’s duplicating the Singapore prosecutions. So, what for? Besides what about Najib or Jho Low and others, the ones truly behind the scam?

Unlike Singapore, America has this other, added predicament: because all 1MDB’s overseas debts were denominated in USD those monies had originated in the US. This includes the Deutsche USD1.2 bn loan. For such monies to subsequently pass through the US financial system would be a perfectly normal occurrence. You can’t quarrel with that. The idea of free, unmolested transaction-activity is akin to Innocent Passage or, related to it, Transit Passage wherein Americans in the South China Sea try to provoke the Chinese by passing near its installations then claiming that they are only minding their own business on the way to another place. China can’t touch those Marine Yankees unless we, the Chinese, invoke complete water territorial ownership.

This legal, money laundering predicament of the DOJ’s is expressed repeatedly by flipping around — to the other end, the use end of — the money transaction process. That is, the funds, the DOJ keeps saying, never went to its intended purpose.

Such a notion, the ‘intended purpose’, is central: that there is no innocent passage, or that there is violation of anti-money laundering rules, then the law kicks in. Hence, with law, one sees the necessity of detailing and tracing each step of the money’s progress ending up in some cunts (both white and brown), paintings, diamonds, casinos, condos and so on. The point is to prove the illegitimacy in the transactions by showing — and this is critical — that the expressed (or intended) purpose had been breached. It is an idea entirely different from Singapore which in all its cases were handled differently but easy to conclude and convict. In the US or elsewhere, this is quite ground-breaking.

If this, as a necessary first step, is established — and verified in a California court — then Jho Low et al are done in. They are the ones caught with knife in hand, after the murder. Or, if you like westerns, holding the smoking gun. Goldman Sachs? Tim? They are likely to go free. They’d say: Me? I didn’t use the money. Malaysia wanted it, I gave them. Yes I took my cut, but isn’t that legal.

So, at that, Leissner will at most get a reprimand like it was with the banks in Singapore.

Thus, to the penultimate question: Whereof Najib?

To answer that, answer this: where is his hand — his fingerprints — on the illegitimate use of the proceeds in the US? Where, in particular, is his name in the flow of transactions through the US system?

The DOJ’s deposition is not self-evident. Its purpose is purely to prove one point: that with USD4.5 bn going to a multitude of things (proof of which USD1.7 bn out of 4.5 bn is directly traceable) then there is no legitimacy in the transactions. It’s not the money that’s illegal; it is the transactions. (We’ll see.)

Let’s face it: there isn’t any crime either within the US or Singapore or elsewhere that can be pinned on Najib. Acknowledging this, the Opposition will have to re-calibrate its political strategies.

Jho Low did his dirty work, as did other Malays and Arabs. Even if in the unlikely eventuality Jho Low points to Najib as boss, there is still no incriminating evidence that Najib directed or was a party to the laundering. At best, there is just the AmBank account plus transactions out of Singapore, none of which falls within US jurisdiction. Even Singapore won’t touch the account because they have to ask the same question: What is the crime?

When the DOJ lacked the crime to link the money to Najib, then the PMO began to hurl insults at the DOJ; it is under a conspiracy agenda and so on. This is of course absurd, but then such claims are not for American ears. They are for the kampung.

This is also to answer why Apandi keeps saying, where is the evidence? (And the white girl Clare, so cocksure, thinks she has the answers.) It answers why Hisham so confidently bet his entire political and official career against the US on this one single rebuttal: If you got it, charge Najib! Why fuck around, spraying shit all over 251 pages?



Exquisite isn’t it? What do the movements resemble?

There is a surprise at 5:40





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The Confucianist Lee Hsien Loong

Few things irk the Chinese more than to see family matters laundered in public, given especially a family in public office. Anglophiles have no problem with that — they don’t know what’s propriety — hence Lee Hsein Loong’s brother and sister.

Properly raised, no Chinese would read into the clip, above, that Lee is a Chinese or that he is a famous Chinese PM or a PM with a hidden agenda, to save his political life. They see, on the basis of his arguments, tone and demeanor — above all, his apology and how he intends to remedy the damage — a good man instead, a man of virtue, properly raised. He was especially fair to himself.

But, what does Mahathir Mohamad see and hear? Why does he hate Singapore — that is, the Chinese — so much? What cause have we, the Chinese, given him to spit at us, even today? With Mahathir’s way, the Umno Malay way, the result is this.

Firdaus Abdullah at A Tale of Two Prime Ministers has rightly raised the pertinent points comparing Lee and Najib Razak. And not because one is Chinese, the other Malay, which bigoted racists like Ahi Attan and Annie of the Valley are wont to do, without batting an eye. This is, as it should be, the way to inspire true loyalty, the way to inspire confidence, the way to conduct relations, Malays among themselves and between Malays and Chinese: sincerity, introspection and virtue.

The Analects: 子曰。爲政以德、譬如北辰居其所而衆星共之。 [In transl.] The Master said: “If you govern with the power of your virtue, you will be like the North Star. It just stays in its place while all the other stars position themselves around it.”

[Muller’s comment] This is the Analects’ first statement on government. Scholars of Chinese thought have commonly placed great emphasis on a supposed radical distinction between Confucian “authoritative” government and Daoist “laissez-faire” government. But numerous Confucian passages such as this which suggest of the ruler’s governance by a mere attunement with an inner principle of goodness, without unnecessary external action, quite like the Daoist wu-wei are far more numerous than has been noted. This is one good reason for us to be careful when making the commonplace Confucian/Daoist generalizations without qualification.

Analects again: 有子曰。信近於義、言可復也。恭近於禮、遠恥辱也。因不失其親、亦可宗也。[In transl.] You Zi said: “When your own trustworthiness is guided by fairness, your words can be followed. When your show of respect is guided by propriety, you will be far from shame and disgrace. If you have genuine affection within your family, you can become an ancestor.”

[Muller’s comment] Fairness is one way of rendering of the Chinese yi 義, which we also translate in this text as Justice, according to the context. Although not quite as essential a concept as ren 仁, it is a strongly internalized human capacity. Being attuned to fairness allows people to do the proper thing in the proper situation, to give each person, place and thing its proper due. In the Analects and other Confucian texts, 義 has the specific connotations of fairness, or justice delivered in a situation when a person is in a position of power or authority. Thus, one of the greatest qualities to be possessed by teacher, a supervisor, a judge, a company owner, or the leader of any social circle is that of fairness, or justice, in treating those over whom he or she has power or influence.


Updated with Zainuddin Maidin

Zam: You tahu saya siapa?

Sure we tau, you’re some motherfucking Malaiyoo prick from Mahathir.


Why are you dragging PM Lee into your Malaiyoo affairs, Zam? So, what slap? Your character, indeed your entire life, is as vile and as base — and stupid — as it gets with an Umno Malaiyoo. While praying to your Allah, go fuck your mother, Zam. Especially if she’s dead. And if you aren’t satiated, fuck your father too.

Keep doing this Zam, we’ll know what we should do. Motherfucker.




China’s Revival (not the Spratlys)

In the following three video clips, China’s women have done it again, taking to a new high point in Chinese performing arts: dance + painting + music + poetry + theater + history

星月神話 Myth of the Constellation

(Play it on full screen.)




Where will you be the next millennium?
Beside you, will all be the same.
Our story is not the most beautiful
but, in this way, how hard it is to forget

If at the time we were altogether brave
would not the outcome be different,
would you not be chatting away,
or bury in your dream, your silence…


Jian dressed for rehearsal…

纵我不往,子宁不来? Even if I did not go to you, might you not come to me? / At the gate tower I look out anxious into the distance / Days are gone for so long without you beside me… How, for you, shall I and Motherland compete…


An Afterword

穿越時空 錯相逢
千年情緣 夢醒空
畫中踏情 夕陽紅
來世再見 已千年

It might be in time, a chance meeting be a mistake,
as if waking from a dream, one millennium away.
As if once stamped on canvas, a red sunset
is goodbye till we’d meet the next millennium, life.




[Video note: What you see isn’t a stage set, but on location in the old imperial palace grounds, Beijing. Play on full screen.]

青青子衿,悠悠我心 纵我不往,子宁不嗣音 青青子佩,悠悠我思 纵我不往,子宁不来 挑兮达兮,在城阙兮 一日不见,如三月兮。


Han Rejuvenation

Chinese etiquette and ritual culture, pivoted on tradition, beauty, arts, a value system and history:

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