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Archive for October 10th, 2018

Reading that, below, you would be rolling on the floor, soon dead, laughing…

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“May I suggest?”

No, you may not!

What a conceited fucking mamak.

And, “Rakyat Bonds?”

Those are Doomsday Bonds!

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Each passing week, without fail, if not breaking some contract or other sort of agreement, they are breaking their own manifesto, written by themselves! So many deals to break.

Imagine when GE15 turns up and should Pakatan lose, the new government says, We’re going to do same, fuck all their bonds, fuck all their contracts — and fuck your manifesto.

Yes, Malaysia baru! Mahathir boleh!

This Syed Akbar Ali has no idea, absolutely none, what is the bedrock of a bond issue. He doesn’t even know the elementary economics going into it, much less how a bond issue works, in particular bonds issued by a pariah country called Malaysia. Like Mahathir, these stupid motherfucking mamaks — and Anglophiles. And they so much like people to think they are so clever.

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The Nation-State Culture

“There, where we live, there is our nation, our culture!”

https://cdn.nybooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/crabapple-sam-itka.jpg

And it isn’t Malaysia. There, we throw stones into Mahathir’s windows. Where we live is where are hearts belong: China, our Motherland where in the splendor of our culture (clips below), we can truly live and thrive to perfection.

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The Collar 子衿

挑兮達兮、在城闕兮

qing qing my collar qing, echo echo my heart echoes
standing at the gate tower I look out into the distance
one day not seeing you seems now like three months long

青青子衿、悠悠我心。
縱我不往、子寧不嗣音。

青青子佩、悠悠我思。
縱我不往、子寧不來。

挑兮達兮、在城闕兮。
一日不見、如三月兮。

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《我住長江頭》

This is a Song era poem put to music. Singer is 雲の泣

我住長江頭
君住長江尾
日日思君不見君
共飲長江水

此水幾時休
此恨何時已
只願君心似我心
定不負相思意

[In translation]

I live in Changjiang* head.
Lord lives in Changjiang tail.
Days pass, never seeing, missing Lord you,
Though we both drink from Changjiang water.

When shall this flow cease,
When shall this hate end,
So our hearts may melt into one,
Never again this yearning to last.

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*Changjiang is the Yangtze River.

What are the above poems about? Answer: saudade. As the Portuguese poet Teixeira de Pascoaes defines it, “the desire for the beloved thing, made painful by its absence.”

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Perfection in everything: Mastered to perfection, Chinese artistic and literary culture, above and below, our aesthetic sense, depth and range, past and present, makes for the finest in the world.

What do the Anglophiles have? What do the Mahathirs and the RPKs have? And the DAP? Bangsa Malaiyoo? Monkeys climbing coconut trees? Voodoo Christ?

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