Archive for the ‘Malaysia Stories’ Category


Multiracial MCA? No shit

Liow Tiong Lay’s argument (clip above) rests entirely on the western, Anglophile cultivated myth that being Chinese or the word ‘Chinese’, like the word ‘black’ or ‘white’, is a racial group. This is patently false.

Look at China. Read its history, go back to Sima Qian (司馬遷 who wrote the shiji 太史公書). Look at the rule by Mongolians and Manchus. Chinese is not an ethnic notion that white is ethnic. It is a cultural term, and a civilization-state, so that it is not inconsistent to say there are today Miao Chinese, Yao Chinese, Zhuang Chinese, Mongolian Chinese, and 52 other ethnics within China today.

Jian is Miao but she is Chinese, talks Chinese, practices Chinese customs, reads Chinese, and loves me (to a fault), who is a Han Chinese. Likewise, Korean is culture, or Japanese, both of which have distinct identities that were shaped by Chinese civilization and ideas. For an example, look at the (south) Korean flag; it is Chinese, that is, the idea is Daoist, also having originated in a land called China.

Hence, being culture, it was easy for China to tolerate different systems of government, one in Hong Kong, in Taiwan and Macau without any of which losing the Chinese cultural identity.

Hence, too, being culture, it was easy for Anglophile Lim Guan Eng to say he is not Chinese, and we Chinese won’t throw a fit. He is welcome to leave — good riddance, we’d say — because we know, he knows, and everybody knows, he is an Anglophile, a fucked-up piece of Banana, yellow outside, white inside. Ridhuan Tee is only Chinese in name and so, too, characters like Yeo Bee Yin, KTemoc, Wong Chen, Lisa Ng and Joshie Ah Hong. If, on the other hand, Malay first Anwar Ibrahim were to declare he is not Malay, Pakatan will face a riot the next day in Putrajaya. Lina Joy discover that the hard way.

To conclude: MCA must remain true to its identity because that’s all you have, which isn’t something you buy in a supermarket — unless Liow wants to be an Anglophile or Muslim. Or, Allah forbid, Malaysian First, whatever the fuck that is.

Just be Chinese, Mr Liow. It’s the most natural thing; it’s what we are. And we’ll be okay. 无为, Mr Liow, 无为.



MCA, Umno treaty: No more wedded under Barisan

Six decades of Umno maligning the Chinese have led to DAP’s victory. Behind the backs of the Chinese, the DAP is now doing Umno’s dirty work so, if this seems bizarre, consider this: it took the most conservative, hawkish American president to make a deal with communist China, leading thus to US-China normalization.

The same counter-intuitive rule applies because who would believe it? Lim Guan Eng is suppose to be Chinese. How could he be maligning Chinese? But therein is the catch…. Is he Chinese? Looks like one, sounds like one, but is he?

In the circumstances, an MCA and Umno alliance treaty is a feasible alternative, going forward. The Barisan coalition of tying together the two parties within a single, superstructure is proven counter-productive and, now, passe.

What is there to object anyway if Barisan breaks up: Umno has repeatedly said, it never needed the Chinese. Nor, do we need Umno.


Y Z, you poor thing, having to write in English: Try the spin again, Taiping woman, and tell us truthfully next time, why.



The following is taken from YZ Chin in LitHub (the title is mine):

Malaysian in NY wonders why she writes in English

One of the very first questions I wrestled with as a writer was this: Why write in English, the colonizer’s language, when I have others at my disposal? I grew up acquainted with three languages; my grandparents immigrated from southern China to Malaya, which was a British imperial territory. So if I didn’t write in Malay, didn’t that make me unpatriotic? And if I didn’t write in Chinese, didn’t that make me a “race traitor?” Why English?

English is intricately woven into my family history. When my grandparents first came to occupied Malaya, they worked for the British. For some time they lived apart, my grandfather cooking meals for colonial officers while my grandmother worked as a nanny for British children in a different part of the country. I never heard either of them speak English, but in my imagination, the few English phrases they did know formed the language of intimate care: Please enjoy the food. Are you warm enough? Have another helping. Did you sleep well? Don’t cry. I’m here.

I suppose they learned as much English as allowed them to forge new lives. It was both a choice and not, just as it was and was not for me as I haltingly attempted to piece together a self through literature. I did not see myself in my Malay textbooks about boys who formed interracial friendships. Neither could I find myself in the Tang poems my parents encouraged me to memorize, which featured ancient men in long-sleeved robes drinking alcohol and being sorrowful (only later in life would I come to relate to that). It was in English books that I saw a sense of adventure and escape that I identified with, as embodied by British children daringly solving mysteries or circumventing adult cruelty.

I acquired English differently from the other languages I used in daily life with my parents. I became proficient solely through reading, without a corresponding speaking component. So at first English seemed to be an abstract, fantastical thing with no real-world application, and this lent itself to boundless dreaming much more than the other languages did. I gravitated toward the stories in my English books because I thought the lives depicted within were so far removed from mine; they gave me the space to imagine new ways of living.

It wasn’t until I encountered the poetry of Shirley Geok-lin Lim that I saw how naïve this view was. I was introduced to her work in the last place I’d thought to look: school. It was a place I associated with casual disdain for the arts in favor of science and mathematics—literature wasn’t introduced as an official component of English language studies for secondary school students until the 21st century. I was among the first waves of students who got to read fiction and poetry for school; prior to that, literature was considered fluff, extra, a hobby. School also seemed propagandistic to me, so I was prepared for dreary, moralistic tales about the value of being upstanding citizens. And although some of the assigned reading did fall into that category, what I remember most is Lim’s “Monsoon History”:

Again we are taken over
By clouds and rolling darkness
Small snails appear
Clashing their timid horns
Among the morning glory

Drinking Milo,
Nyonya and Baba sit at home.
This was forty years ago.

My mind was blown. Here was a poem set in a Malaysian fishing village, written by a Malaysian writer who obviously had intimate love for the landscape, from its damp air to its snails, gnats, and termites. And people in the poem drank Milo, something I did every single day! But they also read Tennyson (“Reading Tennyson, at six / p.m. in pajamas”). The reference seemed jarring at first, yet wasn’t it a mirror of my own life? Was it any stranger than a girl in small-town Malaysia reading Archie comics from the library? That was when I started questioning: why Tennyson? Why, for that matter, Milo? It wasn’t a local invention, but the drink had become such a staple of everyday life in Malaysia. There must be a reason for that.

Once I started trying to find answers, they were everywhere in plain sight, like the hill my small town was known for, which has two names: one that belonged to the colonial officer who “discovered” the hill, and a local name people started using after the colonizers left. I gained an inkling of understanding that, as a postcolonial writer and reader, I am not as removed from the problems of English as I’d assumed. I drew a line from Tennyson in Lim’s poem to my grandparents’ careworn faces, their tight-lipped refusal to speak about their pasts. I finally saw that English was not a language of escape for me, but that it rather represented a painful negotiation between myself and my environment. My family had used English like a tool to carve out a living. Perhaps I, too, could wield English to reinvent myself—or my selves, as in the case with writing fiction.

So yes, I decided to write in English. I don’t see this as capitulating to a colonizing language, however; I see it as an act of acknowledging history and of claiming space. Lim’s poem, “Learning to Love America,” speaks to this:

because it has no pure products

because the Pacific Ocean sweeps along the coastline
because the water of the ocean is cold
and because land is better than ocean

because I say we rather than they

The magic of this poem is that Lim has assembled, out of English words, a declaration of identity that is ambivalent and full of turns, a kind of feint that claims a space (“American”) while leaving room for so much more. It got me thinking: what kind of layered identity could I create for myself, if I, too, claimed the language and used it the way I wanted to? Even the resignation in the poem’s ending lines—“because it is late and too late to change my mind / because it is time”—spoke to me, reminding me that I, just like anyone else, am shaped by forces that are beyond me, long in motion. This has a kind of perverse comfort; if I am thus shaped, then might I not be participating in the shaping of forces to come, even though my efforts may seem puny and the effects invisible so far? And why not participate while wielding the language that so shaped my family? As Elaine Castillo puts it in her essay: “The reason I write in English, and the reason I use untranslated words, are one and the same, the punchline to that rambling, viciously grim joke also known as history.”

Here I am, writing in English, which is mine because my grandparents used it to survive, and because I have written my truth in it. Encountering Tennyson in a monsoon poem helped me become more critical of how I pieced myself together and of my relationship to language. I believe in literature’s ability to connect us. But I also think it can help us discover the ways we are ensnared. And that is the first step to doing something about it.



YZ Chin, The Horror, The Horror

No doubt, the essay merely reflects Chin talking, arguing, to herself. So we’ll take her word at it. Which is to answer, “Why did she write in English?”

The question is pivoted on the unstated assumption (conveniently left out) that she is equally proficient and good in the two other languages she grew up with, Malay and Chinese.

But is she equally proficient in all three?

1. On Malay, she asks, “So if I didn’t write in Malay, didn’t that make me unpatriotic?” Which then begs other questions,

  • (a) Patriotism is demonstrable only in the Malay language? So then, ethnic Malay equals Malaysia? There is only one ethnicity equaling nationalism and this is Malay? To be Chinese is implicitly not a Malaysian?
  • (b) Where and what is the causal relationship between language and patriotism?

2. On Chinese, she asks, “And if I didn’t write in Chinese, didn’t that make me a “race traitor?” Who, which Chinese, has ever call her a ‘race traitor’? What is being a ‘traitor’ to a race? I write in English yet nobody in China calls me a ‘race traitor’. Instead, I am encouraged to do so, presenting China to a hostile Anglophone world. If this is true of me, then she must be imagining ethnocentrism as a peculiar Chinese trait.

Although proficient in Russian and English, Vladimir Nabokov in his later years, wrote only in English (Lolita). Does that make him a traitor to Russia?

If Chin were simply to be honest as to why she writes in the ‘colonizer’s language’ (English), she would say she isn’t proficient enough to write in either Chinese or Malay. Besides, writing in America in Chinese or Malay will not sell books. No buyers. And that would be the end of the matter.

But, for her to justify her ‘colonizer’s language’ suggests the Anglophile in her and her Anglophile prejudices: Tang poems … featured ancient men in long-sleeved robes drinking alcohol and being sorrowful whereas Tennyson brings out, gloriously, her “identity” in a ‘low-class’ mosquito swamp called Malaysia. And, if that’s all she has learned in Tang poetry, it showed she has learned nothing about Chinese literature.

Like numerous western educated up and down Malaysia, Chin is case exemplar not only of a disgusting, deceitful Banana (like Yeo Bee Yin and countless others) but a completely fucked up woman.

If Chin wants to write in pigshit, write. Whining about it, playing a ‘colonizer’ victim, will not hide her racist character — and a lying, fucking cunt that she is — all that on display in third-rate English. Eat your heart out, Chinny.



China will not be made fodder

Every five years, when Malays fight Malays and the local Chinese are required to choose sides, they are used as ammo. To which the Chinese have paid with blood.

Because the DAP has chosen Mahathir Mohamad, MCA must now break away from Barisan in order to free the Chinese to decide.

Unlike the local Chinese who are turned into dedak at every internecine Malaiyoo war, China will not be made into fodder.

Don’t mess with us, you piece of mamak. Consider this, as yet again, a warning… Ignore it at your peril.



Behind the smile, the Salafist fascist


All the smiling faces above are Salafist fascists. The one brought to the seat of central power, thanks to the DAP (again), is the one on the left.


In the way, Anwar Ibrahim let into Malaysia radical Islamism 30 years ago, and also the way the DAP let PAS and hudud into mainstream politics and, now, Pakatan Harapan has let into the Cabinet yet one more fascist, Maszlee Malik.

Malaysia never learn, Malaiyoos never learn; they fall so easily for smiles, appearances and propaganda.

The propaganda: Ten years ago radical Islam was touted as ‘PAS for All‘. Now, DAP’s Ong Kian MIng has declared Maszlee Malik clean as a whistle. Look at his “impressive CV,” says Ong,  who himself — surprise? — is the sort you would imagine of Jerry Falwell.

Maszlee’s CV is impressive?

Durham is impressive? The International Islamic University is impressive? Before he was recruited into active politics, Maszlee taught at IIU, the sort of den (Guess who set it up?) that breeds the like of Osama bin Ladin and others who’d recruit some out-of-work assholes to mow down people on European streets.

…on second thoughts, we should let him into the Cabinet.

He will help speed up Malaysia’s self-immolation, like in the Middle East and the north African Muslim countries. In fact, the more Maszlees the merrier. Related image



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…49 years to the day. And Umno is destroyed in the same hands that made it. Justice, balance, harmony are restored. Zhuangzi莊子 was right:Wuwei 无为; most effective way is, act but effortlessly.

Truly, home. 心爱的 还有十个小时到

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The Game isn’t Over

Perhaps the most succinct explanation for BN’s defeat is provided by Leslie Lau: he isn’t sure. He isn’t sure because Mahathir Mohamad doesn’t represent a new Malaysia. There is not even an addition of new players: PKR is not a new player, nor is the DAP.

On the contrary, everything about Mahathir, including all that he has spoken up against — abuse of authority and corruption in particular — represents the old. Even the craft of deception is older than Mahathir. Lionizing him, as they now do in Malaysiakini as if he is invincible, won’t change that fact of history.

Lau isn’t sure perhaps because the question could have been the wrong one. Another way of asking is to look at why and how it is Mahathir won. Even there we find the same answer that goes back to the year which birthed Mahathirism: it is on the back of (a) May 13 and, (b) the political organization Umno to which he was readmitted in 1969.

(a) Mahathir begun anti-Najib on the back of a campaign that Najib Razak was too cozy with the Chinese, Singapore included, after which China was added. Up until yesterday, he saw nothing intrinsically wrong with Umno.

(b) He couldn’t because, doing so, is to concede that (Umno) Malays shouldn’t govern Malaysia, much less Malays. His argument is that Umno was merely hijacked having been turned into a ‘Najib Umno’, a political party loyal only to Najib, thus losing its way. So that, if Umno was not supposed to be loyal to Najib, Mahathir wants Umno loyalty to him.

This is a Mahathir wish that, in its turn, sidetracks the inherent contradiction within Umno. It works towards its own death: as Malays progress, Umno’s redundancy grows. The party’s reason for existence as a ‘protector’ of Malay interest diminishes as that protection is made secured.

This leads to a further problem: as Umno’s redundancy grows, there is lesser need for it. Mahathir invents another Umno, today called PPBM. That is, without Umno, there is no Bersatu, the former’s successor

Not even the post GE14 power structure has changed. Recall that Umno begun politics on less than equal standing, both within Malaya and especially after Malaysia’s formation. Penang, Selangor and Perak could be considered as opposition states until the formation of Barisan. Sarawak and Sabah then weren’t fixed deposits, a situation so precarious then that it lead to Project IC in Sabah, then hoisting up Taib Mahmud as the primary Sarawak force, producing the endemic land grab witnessed today.

There is one hope left for Malaysia: Neither Harapan nor Bersatu can nominate Mahathir prime minister. Harapan is not a registered coalition and Bersatu is not a legal party. All the propaganda won’t change that fact so, it’s just as well the three originators of Pakatan boot out Mahathir. Here is the actual GE14 parliamentary seat standing:

  • PKR 47
  • DAP 42
  • Bersatu 13
  • Amanah 11
  • Warisan 8
  • Bebas (Tian Chua’s Batu) 1

Total: 122.

Less Bersatu 13, the total above drops to 109, three short of a simple majority.

There is, however, also this permutation: Bersatu was never an actual Opposition. PAS is. PAS, with 18 seats, taking the place of Bersatu, is better as an avenue to depoliticize Malaysian lives and end Mahathirism: Hadi Awang has less reason to give (Islamic) trouble in the future and the new federal would have two more state governments to work with.


What’s wrong with this propaganda picture? The two parties add up to 24 seats but Mahathir is made to look like the victory is his. If the 18 seats from PAS replace both Bersatu and Amanah then, 90 + 18 = 107. Add Warisan’s 8 = 115. Bingo! End of Mahathir.

That, think about it, would be truly the People’s wish. For Mahathir’s party to get 13 seats proves nothing, not especially the People’s Wish. On the contrary.

“All is fair in love and war.” Besides, both the DAP and PKR have repeatedly stressed, Mahathir is just to be used, like a fucking horse. Well, the use-by-date has expired.

A new federal government would have Perak and Kedah comfortably, on top of Trengganu and Kelantan and still keep Johor, Negri Sembilan and Malacca (there are ways about it, of course).


Below shows why Mahathir is never to be trusted. From among Annie’s Assholes:

1. Malay rights and privilleges (sic)
2.The supremo position of Islam in the country
3. The rights and position of Malay Rulers
4. The special position of Malay language.

“We’ll do anything possible to defend all those rights; such as going to the streets in huge numbers TO FIGHT and PROTECT what is rightly ours!”

Oh ya? That Annie’s asshole just don’t get it and why yesterday’s results are what they are.

Goodbye Annie. See you in hell…(Update: But no hurry. Hell will still be there.)

Update 1: Mahathir relaunched democracy? Is there a claim more ignorant and more stupid than this?


Other Updates

Postscript A: A Grand, Natural, Anti-M Coalition

PKR+DAP+BN (all others fuck off)


Postscript B: Watch this space…

Late night, update 2: Move along, nothing to see. Go home, get some sleep.


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Although it is polling day, this has to be said…

Fiscal Reform? That’s bullshit

When Pakatan Harapan issued its fiscal policy at the 11th hour of polls, it didn’t give enough time for scrutiny.

But scrutiny was easy. Pakatan’s policy showed that its politicians know nuts about financial economics (I see Wong Chen’s hand in it, a sweet talking lawyer believing he is some top Malaysian economist). Here is to teach those deceitful motherfuckers real world, fundamental economics as a father would teach a child in the letter below:

Under privatization, Mahathir became the world top crony

My dear Daughter,

As you grow up and experience more of the ups and downs of the economy, you will notice a piece of mindbending hypocrisy: during the good times, bankers, entrepreneurs—rich people in general—tend to be against government. They criticize it as a “brake on development,” a “parasite” feeding on the private sector through taxation, an “enemy of freedom and entrepreneurship.” The cleverer among them even go so far as to deny that government has any moral right, or duty, to serve society, by claiming that “there is no such thing as society—there are just individuals and families,” or “society is not well defined enough for the state to be able to serve it.” And yet, when a crash occurs that is brought on by their actions, those who have delivered the fieriest of speeches vehemently opposing substantial government intervention in the economy suddenly demand the state’s aid. “Where is the government when we need it?” they yelp.

One of the most prevalent arguments they make against the state is that wealth is produced individually, by heroic individuals. Taxation is therefore seen as an unjustifiable confiscation of what is rightfully theirs. Nothing could be further from the truth. To see this, let’s go back to the beginning of market societies for a moment—to the time when the serfs were being kicked off their ancestral lands.

How do you think the landowners managed to get rid of the serfs so efficiently? The answer is: with the help of the state. The king and his government lent the landowners a hand, sending their soldiers in to put down any rebellion by the peasants. And how do you think the new order, underpinning market society, was maintained? How were the majority living under conditions of abject dehumanization in the slums of Manchester, Birmingham, and London kept under control when a few streets away the minority lived in the lap of luxury? To put it simply, private wealth was built and then maintained on the back of state-sponsored violence.

In fact, it is not just the state that provides the conditions for wealth creation. If you think about it, all wealth has always been produced collectively—through recycling and through a gradual accumulation of knowledge. Workers need entrepreneurs to hire them, who need workers to buy their goods. Entrepreneurs need bankers to lend to them, who need entrepreneurs to pay interest. Bankers need governments to protect them, who need bankers to fuel the economy. Inventors cannibalize the inventions of others and plagiarize the ideas of scientists. The economy relies on everyone.

While consistently demanding that the state continue to provide the conditions in which their wealth can grow, every time the high and mighty have received the bill for the state’s services from the tax office, they have grunted, moaned, whinged, and protested. And since the powerful have great in influence over the state, this has led to a curious phenomenon: the taxes asked of them have always tended to be low in relation to the amount the state has actually spent, directly or indirectly, on their behalf. As for the workers, their wages have for most of history barely been sufficient to feed themselves and their children, so their taxes have never amounted to a sufficient sum either. So where has the additional money come from? The answer is: public debt. And who has provided the government with the requisite loans? The bankers, of course! And where have the bankers found the money? I hardly need tell you that they have conjured it from thin air. You can start to see how paying low taxes works doubly in the bankers’ favor.

Yet, watching television, listening to politicians worry themselves sick over the size of the national debt and making all sorts of promises to rein it in, you might be fooled into thinking that government debt—or public debt, as it is known—is an awful thing, something like the smallpox virus, in need of permanent eradication. The argument made by those who consider the state an obstacle to private business is that a government that spends beyond its means and can’t balance its books is heading for disaster. Don’t fall for that nonsense. While it is true that too much public debt can cause major headaches, too little is also a problem. Even Singapore, whose government is forced by law not to spend more than the money it receives in taxes, finds it essential to borrow money. Why? Because a market society’s bankers need public debt as surely as fish need water to swim in. Without public debt, market societies can’t work.

When the government borrows, say, $100 million from a banker for, say, a ten-year period, in return it provides the banker with a piece of paper, an IOU, by which it legally guarantees to repay the money in ten years’ time as well as pay an additional yearly amount to the banker in interest—say, $5 million a year. This IOU is called a bond, implying that the government is now bound for ten years to whoever possesses this piece of paper. Given that the rich refuse to cough up the kind of taxes that would make government borrowing unnecessary, the state issues bonds and “sells” them to banks and rich people in order to pay for the things that keep the whole show on the road: streets, hospitals, schools, police, and so on. By spending this money on its various projects—buying supplies, paying salaries—the government directly boosts the whole recycling process of the economy from which everyone benefits, including the banks.

But this is far from being the only reason that government bonds are useful to bankers. The one thing that bankers hate most is cash: money sitting around in their vaults or on their spreadsheet not being lent in return for interest. But as has hopefully become clear by now, banks become precarious and vulnerable if even a few depositors want their money back all at once. At that point bankers need to have access to something that they can sell in a jiffy so as to pay demanding depositors. Government bonds are perfect for this. To the extent that everyone trusts that the government will be true to its word, its bonds will always be in demand. Indeed, they are exceptional in this way—no other debt can be recycled quite as easily. This means that bankers love government bonds: not only is a bond a loan that earns a nice rate of interest very safely (so much so, in fact, that it can also be used as collateral for taking out further loans from other banks), but it can also be used as a commodity—a piece of property exactly like a painting or a vintage car that can be sold immediately if the banker is in urgent need of cash. Bonds are, in bankers’ parlance, “the most liquid of assets.” As such, they lubricate the banking system to keep its cogs and wheels turning.

In fact, in bad times, when bankers pick up the phone to the government and demand that the state’s central bank bail them out, it does so not just by creating new money, as we have already seen, but also by issuing even more bonds and using them to borrow more money from other bankers, often foreign ones, to pass on to the local bankers.

You can begin to see why public debt is something much, much more than ordinary debt. It is a manifestation of our market society’s power relations, the necessary response to the refusal of the rich to pay their share. It is also a shock absorber that allows accident-prone bankers to avoid many of the major mishaps that would otherwise occur in its absence. It is like an elastic band holding everything together, capable of stretching during the bad times to prevent the system from breaking.


The letter was written by Greece’s former finance minister Yanis Varoufakis, an economist by training. The title is mine.


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Going to Ceramah, series 10. This is the final in the series.


All GEs are Malays versus Malays. Umno makes it look like Malay versus Chinese, sometimes. DAP made sure it is Malay versus Chinese, always. Politics, you see, is a profession to them, a (well) paid job they’d fight to keep. Wong Chen has said so. It isn’t selfless public service as we Chinese understand it.




Ketuanans gallop back. Bananas get to ride

Not everyone — Malaysiakini’s Thaya? — think that all general elections are about Malays fighting Malays. Because it is, Umno ketuanan types therefore make appear that Malaysia’s GEs are between Malays and Chinese. That is a fight that DAP urban Anglophiles take professionally — it is a job — because they have nothing at stake, personally, and they don’t have to lose their skin.

Those who stand to lose are the Chinese on who Anglophile parliament seats depend and on who they exploit for the emotions.

Being fodder, the Chinese have to decide which Malay to side with because in 10 out of 10 seats where MCA contests, or Gerakan, DAP makes look like those are simply Malay proxies. Being the Chinese voter, hence, there is the enormously difficult task of choosing the Malay side. As fodder you can’t win, you see.

Namewee captured the Chinese mood very well and Umno should pay heed. Time marker 2:18: 你自己投谁你自己知道 不要听别人多多。(This is modern script vs Namewee’s traditional script he picked up from his Taiwan days.)

Don’t bother to Google translate: Namewee uses oral hanyu (Mandarin) which is distinctively different from the written form. Google won’t translate well, if at all; the result is complete rojak. In that line he is speaking direct to the viewer, substituting the third person narration he has used throughout for the second pronoun ‘you’ 你 (which, really, means I). Hence, meaning translation:

You know who you’d vote for, why listen to claptrap. (别人多多 literal translation, ‘other people talk much, much’ which is just Chinese street euphemism for claptrap. Meaning the ceramahs.)

For a number of reasons, when DAP allied with Mahathir, the Chinese decision (which is not the same as Anglophile decision) had been made. DAP failed a Napoleonic rule: don’t wake the dragon — China. This is, after all, a fight strictly between him and Najib. Mahathir bringing in the Chinese, his electoral and his fascist trademark, would have electoral repercussions. Confirmation of the repercussion comes from Liew Chin Tong, below.

Stop at 1:08. Liew: “People came voluntarily, whether they support us or not, we don’t know.

Don’t know? And, if DAP is not cocksure, what’s with the Chinese tsunami? Or even Rakyat tsunami.



May 9 settles what May 13 didn’t

Mama never said anything about what happened on May 13. Was she there when the gang of Malay youths entered the furniture shop? Who else was there? Where had the Malays come from? What did they do before setting alight the place? How? Did they take anything? Hurt anyone? What were they like? How were they dressed? What did they say to one another, or to her family?

It never occurred to me to ask any of these questions then as if all that had taken place in a dream, and the dream wasn’t even mine. I wonder why.

But years later, on assignment, I did write a 3,500-word short story, imagining what might had happened that day.

There were other May 13 reminders, usually every five years from Mahathir Mohamad. You see it in the papers, full page, Chinese, English, and in color.

This is the queer part: Why does Mahathir want to remind the Chinese whom he had contributed to incite for their murder?

It can’t be me: what can I possibly know because a memory as tumultuous as May 13 requires an experience beforehand. Mama? But why? Was Mahathir responsible, in part, in one way or another? Was he threatening to burn down more Chinese homes because Mama’s family had another furniture shop then, only half the size of the one that’s gone but in a less vulnerable and an exclusively Chinese district. Even that was eventually sold which meant that nothing physical — other than memories — tie our families to the country and the land.

After DAP’s alliance with Mahathir there will be nothing left to remember. But then it is not their memories, not their mothers, and not their shops. Besides, they aren’t even Chinese — the Christians Hannah Yeoh and Lim Guan Eng said so, even tried to formalize it on paper. Why then should Anglophiles, Christians in particular, care for infidels, who they consider as believers of voodoo and the low class?

For the past decade, they had the Chinese in their pockets, especially those who live in Penang. Blame ourselves for being such fools.

But I shall leave their betrayal, the Wu Sangui 吳三桂 DAP, in my heart forever. I will take them with me, wherever, back to Jian, back to China, my home and, unlike Mama, I will tell everybody, Jian, our children, everybody. And the children will tell their children. Not even death will erase this memory. The betrayal, because it cuts deeper, is the greater of the two crimes.

For 50 years it had been Mahathir oppression, these days Anglophile deception. They do this by depositing all of Umno’s ills, all Malaysia’s actually, collected the past 60 years, particularly those Mahathir created, on one man — Najib Razak — even as they sleep with the main culprit. Duplicity is sooner or later found out. But, for now, they have Mahathir, a man as skilled as they are in the deception.


情爱 好快 回来了


After America, I had spent the last decade in mainland China, Taiwan and Hong Kong (in that order of duration). Jian came into my life quite by accident and she permitted me to see a contrast not between Malaysia and China, but between who is Chinese and those in urban Malaysia. This is like they are two opposite worlds.

“But they are Malay!” she said when we talked about urban Chinese and Anglophiles. “And you are Chinese.”

I am nearly thrown off the chair because of its sheer veracity. If that is true, then all problems are solved.

Queer: there is relief after learning that the flight back to China is confirmed. Should Pakatan win, I challenge them to declare war on China so that we can settle this matter with Mahathir — finally.

Like in many national upheavals — think of the French revolution or, nearer home, the Indochina wars — May 13 was intended to settle matters. That these convulsions sometimes don’t, as in May 13, it is from the results of dynamics carried forward to the future.

That future is, of course, now — flowing out from 1969. Stated another way, we stare at the May 13 legacies, living it actually.


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Going to Ceramah series 9

The savage lives in himself.

The man accustomed to the ways of society is always outside himself, and knows how to live only in the opinions of others. And it is, as it were, from their judgement alone that he draws the sentiment of his own existence. — Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778)



Savagery of the Pakatan Mob


In his book ‘Emily‘, Rousseau thought that ‘the more [men] come together, the more they are corrupted.

Rousseau offered the plausibility on how the process might take place.

  • (a) Coming together man develops new needs, and becomes dependent on others for the satisfaction of those needs, even for a cup of water.
  • (b) Once together with others, savage man not only ceases to be independent, he also, more importantly, ceases to be absolute – he becomes relative. That is, he becomes relative to others. He compares and judges, and is compared with and judged by, others. Some are handsomer, some are stronger, some are faster. In response, others are envious, vain, contemptuous.

The French sociologist Gustave Le Bon (1841-1931) greatly expanded on those initial ideas. In 1895 he published The Psychology of Crowds  (today re-titled The Crowd: A Study of the Popular Mind). In it, he also drew from Darwinism and the evolutionist Ernst Haeckel.

Characteristic of the mob, Le Bon wrote, were impulsiveness, irritability, incapacity to reason, the absence of judgement of the critical spirit, the exaggeration of sentiments….

Le Bon writes well, so it suffices for the argument to quote him verbatim. The passage below is still applicable in these times, in Malaysia:

By the mere fact that he forms part of an organised crowd, a man descends several rungs in the ladder of civilisation. Isolated, he may be a cultivated individual; in a crowd, he is a barbarian — that is, a creature acting by instinct. He possesses the spontaneity, the violence, the ferocity, and also the enthusiasm and heroism of primitive beings, whom he further tends to resemble by the facility with which he allows himself to be impressed by words and images — which would be entirely without action on each of the isolated individuals composing the crowd — and to be induced to commit acts contrary to his most obvious interests and his best-known habits. An individual in a crowd is a grain of sand amid other grains of sand, which the wind stirs up at will.

Closely related to mob psychology, Le Bon had something to say of national and political institutions. The caution he offers (below) predates by more than 150 years the vengeful trademark politics of Mahathir, today overlooked by liberals, Christians and Anglophiles eager for a taste of power they never had (2016 was the 175th anniversary of Le Bon’s birth):

A nation does not choose its institutions at will any more than it chooses the colour of its hair or its eyes. Institutions and governments are the product of the race. They are not the creators of an epoch, but are created by it. Peoples are not governed in accordance with their caprices of the moment, but as their character determines that they shall be governed. Centuries are required to form a political system and centuries needed to change it. Institutions have no intrinsic virtue: in themselves they are neither good nor bad. Those which are good at a given moment for a given people may be harmful in the extreme for another nation.

Mob madness in western culture was documented as early as the Roman Empire. ‘Parallel Lives‘ [transl.], the best known work of the Greek-Roman essayist Plutarch (circa CE 46-120), is actually nuggets of biography of both the well-known and little-known. On Julius Caesar, Plutarch wrote about his death, a funeral speech which, in turn, sparked a mob to kill a man named Cinna.

Shakespeare rehashed that story in the play ‘Julius Ceasar‘ which, despite the name, has only a few references to the Roman ruler. In it we read of a certain Mark Antony giving a speech at the funeral of Caesar, naming names, among who was the chief conspirator Lucius Cornelius Cinna.

As it turns out, Lucius Cornelius Cinna had disapproved of how Caesar ran the Roman Empire, so created a populist and anti-aristocratic political party after which he proceeded to plot the murder of Caesar. Among the conspirators, Cassius and Brutus. It was through the latter Shakespeare made Caesar declare the famous Latin line at the final minute of his death: Et tu, Brute — ‘Even you, Brutus.’

What is less often cited is Mark Antony’s speech at the funeral of Caesar (BCE 44). It ‘whipped up‘ up a frenzy and the crowd in attendance descended on the streets, looking for the conspirators. Passing a market, they came across the poet Gaius Helvius Cinna, the actual name cited in Plutarch’s book.

‘Julius Caesar’ excerpted, Act III Scene 3:

First Citizen: What is your name?

Second Citizen: Whither are you going?

Third Citizen: Where do you dwell?

Fourth Citizen: Are you a married man or a bachelor?

Cinna the Poet: Truly, my name is Cinna.

First Citizen: Tear him to pieces; he’s a conspirator.

Cinna the Poet: I am Cinna the poet, I am Cinna the poet!

Fourth Citizen: [Then] tear him for his bad verses, tear him for his bad verses.

Cinna the Poet: I am not Cinna the conspirator!

Fourth Citizen: It is no matter, his name’s Cinna; pluck but his
name out of his heart, and turn him going.

Third Citizen: Tear him, tear him!

It didn’t matter if the man the mob had cornered was not Lucius Cornelius Cinna but was instead the poet Cinna. They promptly tore at him, and “pluck his heart out but for his name”.

This mob behavior was to be replicated in modern times during the Third Reich. Synonymous with irrationality and anger for no good reason, Adolf Hitler became illustrative of how easy it is to turn a nation into a mob, before which individuals would not ordinarily kill a neighbor in an oven. Says Le Bon:

The most careful observation proves that an individual immersed for some length of time in a crowd soon finds himself in a special state which must resemble a state of fascination in which the hypnotized individual finds himself in the hands of the hypnotists.

The crowd who took Bastille, the historian George Rudé wrote, was not bestial and base. They were instead molded and directed by the actions of ‘literate artisans’.

In positing Donald Trump to mob psychology, The Atlantic wrote: ‘There is no social alchemy that creates a single or collective “mind,” but instead an aggregate of individuals who, to widely varying degrees, follow or ignore the leaders.’

Whether or not they followed leaders, mob behavior is predictable: irrational, primitive (recall Rousseau’s ‘the savage within’) and indiscriminately violent. The mob’s power is its collective madness, eliciting actions they wouldn’t normally do when alone. It also produces a perverse kind of emotion, something akin to joy. As in ‘Julius Caesar‘, it didn’t matter if the mob knew it had the wrong Cinna but, still, they’d, ‘Tear him! tear him!’ Even it is for his bad poetry, ‘pluck out his heart except for the name’.

In the Amanah ceramah clip on top of this post, the woman shouting at the pantomime actor is no longer herself, someone Le Bon might have said, “but has become an automaton who has ceased to be guided by (her) will.”

So what if it is just a play? In spite of Mat Sabu’s attempt to pacify her, it doesn’t really work. He has put fire to the fuel, as Pakatan’s ceramahs are full of incitements, so that if the man on stage was indeed a minister, the outcome is predictable.

Malaysia would have its first on-site election campaign murder.

This essay is a warning to Pakatan as well as Malaysiakini (Steven Gan) bragging daily about thousands and thousands going ‘gaga’ at Pakatan ceramahs: Push it, set the mob on fire, then let’s see you burn with them.

The following are persons who, most glaringly, would be guilty of inciting the mob, in the way Daesh/IS Muslims label others as ‘infidels’, call for their murders then slice their throats. Not in any order:

  • Mahathir Mohamad,
  • Lim Guan Eng,
  • Lim Kit Siang,
  • Mat Sabu,
  • Hew Kuan Yau,
  • Nga Kor Ming,
  • Hannah Yeoh.

In Mahathir’s era, they would have been rounded up (‘taken in’ as Ahi Attan would say when he wrote for Mahathir threatening the Chinese ) and the Kamunting keys thrown away.


In the prelude to the French Revolution, Rousseau:

If this people of followers were full of original characters it would be impossible to know about it; for no man dares be himself. One must do as others do, is the primary maxim of wisdom in this country. That is done, that is not done. This is the supreme pronouncement.’



Pakatan politicians respect nothing…


Only DAP Anglophiles who think Christianity is superior to all other cultures could have resorted to that: “While the video played (the Christian song) ‘Amazing Grace’ played in the background“.





II Even the dead they won’t leave alone

III “Nga: Dr M puts afterlife mahjong game with Kuan Yew on hold

IV. And here is Liew Chin Tong talking about the ‘psychological state’  of Najib Razak as if he is some Freudian expert, peddling diagnosis as news, even though, in psychology, nobody — absolutely nobody — is certain anymore if it is science.

This has gone too far.

Najib, please, please, please locked up the motherfuckers. We don’t care anymore what excuse you use or what charge the AG draws up. Just lock them up and throw away the keys. They respect nothing, and why should we? Besides, Mahathir would have done it.


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Going to Ceramah series 8


Wong Chen: I was a great lawyer, an easy life, making loads of money. Look what I gave up for ubah Malaysia!


Evangelism in the Ceramah

The Internet transmission medium for political propaganda might be new, and many in Barisan have argued that this medium acted as the tipping point in the Opposition’s electoral success since 2008. But the format in which Opposition propaganda is conveyed and made appealing is far older.

One way to make sense of this is to compare DAP ceramahs before 2008 and after, especially in GE14.

Before the like of Tony Pua, Liew Chin Tong and Ong Kian Ming appeared on the scene ten years ago, DAP conducted ceramahs no different from a Barisan party, the only difference being the respective targets of the oral missiles. Since these evangelical Christians, there was a marked change, adopting a three-step format structure:

  • 1. Personal Introduction: Who I am, where I am from, what was I.
  • 2. Personal Testimony: Why I am in this DAP electoral business, what changed in me.
  • 3. Concluding: Why I changed, what I want, where I want to go.

Steps 2 and 3 easily overlap, of course, producing, essentially, a pre-conversion past and a conversion future.

This format-structure, imported from American Christian evangelical groups, is widely used in especially churches, their Sunday meetings, and biblical study groups. Naturally, when Lim Kit Siang began shedding the party’s external Chinese image and packed the senior echelons instead with Anglophiles, the DAP had a ready-made propaganda system installed.

Church gatherings give precedence to individual conversion experiences more than Jesus Christ or the bible verses. Typically it goes something like this: the life before and the life after accepting Christianity. Two distinct persons are created.

Before Christianity, I grew up in poverty, in a ladang, spent time roaming the town, staring at the girls’ legs; I was selfish, think only of money, and never think of the future. After Christianity, after I was saved by Jesus, I changed.

  • Yeo Bee Yin: I sacrificed a good paying job abroad, came home to fight for the country, I cried for Anwar Ibrahim sitting in jail. If I can change, so can you.
  • Wong Chen: I had a good paying job as a corporate lawyer. One day some PKR people asked me to do some policy studies work. It didn’t pay well but I agreed. From there, I learned about their ‘struggle’. When they asked me to stand in Kelana Jaya, I agreed.

The point, of course, is to create a two-stage narration, how one fell in step with the other: the past sinful and evil; the future good and heavenly. The individual in the middle is vehicle for the change. The format replicated in ceramah everywhere, it is as if a whole country is simultaneously preached to and converted to a religious cause.

In the way evangelists converted Chinese and Indians, this format-structure proved effective politically. (Many American companies, insurers for example, drill this style into their salesmen and agents.) Even the propaganda language has become identical: Save Malaysia, Ubah, Malaysia cannot do it without you.

What made the method especially effective is, on the one part, the individual and personal focus, which makes the entire narrative believable.

The greater effect comes from within the narrative details, that is, the elements going into the story-making. Therein is the quality in the deception which is both deeply narcissistic and deceitful.

  • Tony Pua: I gave up a good corporate career in Singapore but omits to tell how, towards the end, it was falling apart then passed on.
  • Hannah Yeoh: I gave up a good life in Australia to return home but omits to say that arose out of a rejection of her PR application.
  • Yeo Bee Yin: I want to make a better future for Malaysia but never tells about her prejudices towards Malays, people who can’t “speak proper English”.

Examine those details closely, they are full of irrationality. Example, what has speaking ‘proper’ English got to do with academic standing? What is considered proper? Bee Yin’s English is proper? Portrayals of their intellectual greatness quickly fall apart.

The point in all this: we are dealing with a bunch of people skilled in deception and lies. In the clip below is Wong Chen. Like him, most Anglophiles don’t speak Chinese. Speaking in English, a  trademark of their prejudices, the duplicitous Christian quality stands out. Although they are bilingual, like Hannah, like Bee Yin, the evangelical narrative style, being American origin and being Christian, is best deployed in English.

This also helps to explain why the like of Tony and Hannah are put up in urban areas with a large Anglophile, not Chinese, population. For the Chinese-speaking population in rural and suburban outskirts, DAP sends in Superman Hew Kuan Yau. He is also Christian but his presentation, spoken in Cantonese mostly, is vastly different, rough street style Hong Kong rather than genteel Mandarin.

Note the characteristic trademark of evangelical politics: Wong Chen had a easy life before conversion to PKR politics, implying a deep narcissism for the personal sacrifices he made — identical to the way they are raised and taught in churches to believe, Jesus sacrificed his life to save the world.

Anglophile racism — love of all things Anglophone and which they regard as superior — are very apparent in Christian ceramah speeches that attempt to ‘give the appearance of solidity to wind’ (Orwell).

In countless testimonies, Yeo Bee Yin repeatedly references, at Bakri for example, Cambridge and working for Americans to give the illusion she was in America. She was never there to work, but those words feed her narcissism and props up a non-Chinese / anti-Chinese image. The same goes with Wong Chen who paints a picture of high-flying corporate finance (very American), with endless meetings, all of which, added up, take only a minuscule portion of the workload.  The rest of the time is devoted to typing, changing, editing, retyping and retyping standard-form contracts.

Christian ceramah is now standard in the Opposition electoral campaigning.



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