Lim Kit Siang in his finest hour, berating a TV3 reporter while explaining why his U-Turn on Tun Mahathir Mohamad is not a U-Tun. “You got proof, ah?” U-Tun Lim said to the poor reporter who didn’t know where to place his face. Nor evidence (so, at bottom of post, is space supplied to him free). But he did manage to take the photo above. Thanks, asshole.
For the benefit of those motherfucking DAP Anglophiles who don’t read Chinese — shame on you, and we promise to piss on your daughter’s grave — those hanyu words on top means this: ‘Lim Kit Siang, Fuck Your Mother’.
Straight Lives, Crooked Ones
Hidden for nearly a year behind his moral invective of 1MDB, it is assuring to rediscover that Mahathir Mohamad is today the same man who 40 years ago began a process of mangling this country beyond recognition of its original face. Reassuring because then one has no longer to put up with his hypocritical venom: there is enough to poison and drown everyone.
The time Jian had asked to visit Malaysia was the only time we talked extensively about the country. Extensive means the conversation lasted more than the usual passing mention, for about two minutes exactly.
In this short duration it surprises how far one is able to penetrate the depths of this country’s misery. But then Malaysia is a Malay sial. It is an artifice, a construct, so there is really no difficulty with its comprehension, like how one quickly learns to tie a shoe lace. There’s no other way to go about it other than one. It was, and still is, ruled by bumbling fools, administered by an unthinking civil service than by expertise; its politics written about and lied to by political hacks than by literary minds. There was no having it any other way — this sial Malay country.
From the beginning, Malaysia had been the misnomer of a misnamed country. The Malays sequestered it from the inland tribes and then went on to lie about its ownership (how the fuck do you own a country?) and creating the structures to prop up the lies. Otherwise, where in the world does one find seven rulers in nine states? Federated and Unfederated? Not just the sultans, but those structures also show the confusion in the British minds; there had been kings without a kingdom; a made up race without a people.
Structures like building scaffolding give form. Form lend credence to the Great Malaiyoo Lie. Britain especially needed the lie with the form. Otherwise, if you were a White Raja, who do you talk to, to give independence? Malay history is suppose to begin in Malacca. After that it vanished and then reappeared, mysteriously, somehow, hundreds of miles away in another patch of mosquito swarm land. Where were the Malaccans then? And where are they today?
Life when made arbitrary it had to be made up, the way online language is made up: blogs, web, plugins…. This, thus, is power derived from language. From then on, language gave the arbitrary Malay life some semblance of culture. Language provided law, an instrument of power.
It was only the white man who had all that. The Malays? They had to learn to write sitting on top a coconut tree. Even among themselves there was no assurance the Malay life is truly Malay because who is to know what that is. You could tell, on the other hand, without argument or convincing, a Chinese is a Chinese while the white man is indeed White. You could tell that an imitation White such as Kit Siang is Chinese, even if he were to hide behind his squeamish, Mangala English diction. Once he is exposed as a charlatan, he becomes mad: “You don’t understand English, ah?” he told one reporter. English?
So the Malay…?
He had to be invented — on legal paper. The Malay had to be defined because his skin is no help in his identity politics, birthplace much less though, today, even after sequestering a desert god.
Once given language form, the Malay came into being, and so obeys the Daoist dictum that unless a thing is given its proper name, that thing has no existence. For a name to be ‘proper’ is to reflect its deeper, existential truth. But ‘proper’ in the Malay is what white people say is proper. They held the power to name things, give away kings, kingdoms, indeed a whole ‘race’.
In this way, in the beginning, is the falsified world of the Malayan life and then further warped by snake oil messiahs (Mahathir Mohamad, Hadi Awang), by charlatans (Najib Razak), and by the bogus (‘Tengku’ Adnan, Pahang ‘mufti’ Abdul Rahman Osman).
“I failed to change the Malays,” is classic among Mahathir’s fabrications because how is a thing possibly altered if it were intrinsically true to begin with? The Malay, like Mahathir himself, was a true fake.
Like the manufacture of nails or the Bible, Mahathir simply make more of the same counterfeit and then applied to it the Malay name. Even the Malay god — Allah — was made up, shipped in from the desert 8,000 miles away then used to strike terror on the Chinese who don’t buy the Malay idiocy.
Jian: You are a Malaysian but are you Malay or Chinese?
Answer: What do you think?
Jian: Of course you are Chinese. What’s a Malay?
Answer: I don’t know.
Jian: Strange country. Strange people.
Answer: Yes. It’s a strange, fucked up country.
Jian: So a nothing country. Can we not talk about it?
Answer: Of course.
She returned to coloring her toe nails. Her world had no place for the world I had given up, and the better for it and for us.
A woman must love without inhibition and dread if she is to live and not die mad. All that a man needs to do is, keep up.
Below: Aranjuez wasn’t there when she found it. With other intentions, Fate simply waited.
Dear Reader, I shit you not. There are now evidences, scientifically established, demonstrated irrefutably, that love is identical to cocaine addiction. Following are the symptoms afflicting both: craving, exhilaration, intoxication, obsessiveness, withdrawal, helplessness.
Tian-ah, give me more.
It’s astonishing how decades of living alongside the Malay, the Chinese keep their Chinese-ness, and this is in spite of the Malaiyoo efforts to trammel on and convert us — those motherfuckers. Not all Chinese succeed to remain distinct. The failed ones: Ridhuan Tee, Lisa Ng, Josh Hong, Lim Kit Siang, his fellow party travelers, Liew Chin Tong, et al; all Malaysian in passport name but, like the lost Malay, neither Chinese nor English.
When Kit Siang declared himself Malaysian first and Chinese second, he was comparing and asking people to choose between a legality, a paper qualification, and the existential being. He conflated nationality with ethnicity, showing the depths of the man’s confusion. Nay, his stupidity. Like the Malay who can’t be Malay if there was no Constitution, rootless and a bumbling vagrant in the South China Sea, Anglophile Kit Siang wouldn’t be Chinese if not for his IC.
Mahathir Mohamad, the two-dime, useless cold and flu small town doctor and Malay forgery, didn’t know better to call Kit Siang a Chinese chauvinist.
Malacca’s ‘Gang of Four‘: Surprise, Kit Siang?
His son Guan Eng had labelled the four a Gang only because Kit Siang can’t take a slap in the face. Their revolt had everything to do with the Lim family leadership, their association with Mahathir, and nothing to do with MCA so that the more he blames Umno for the implosion, the greater is his guilt.
At another level, the Gang is also saying this, Kit Siang is no good for either Chinese or Malaysia because, worse than an opportunist, he is an insufferable charlatan — 蒙古大夫 — a quack like Mahathir is a quack. Quack doctors, quack lawyers, quack economists; the Oppo, such as the DAP, has got it all.
Najib Razak has no need to beat up the DAP because that merely hurts MCA’s comeback chances; Kit Siang is doing the job well enough. For Najib to insult the DAP is to reaffirm the Mahathir line DAP is Chinese chauvinist; and that the Chinese vote, like the Malay’s, is tied to race, both points of view being patently false. The Chinese will see to it that the DAP will not last another term, a clear sign of which is below in the newspaper clip.
Its reporter Kong See Hoh, like Kit Siang, is an Anglophile who writes in English like those idiot Malaysiakini columnists who don’t know their Queen’s English. He can’t tell cynicism from ‘apathy’. If a mere 13 percent of under age 30 Chinese are registered to vote that’s because they don’t care for the like of Wan Azizah — and Lim Kit Siang especially — and not because they are indifferent to politics. A dozen general elections have told them that their vote is good up to a point only. These reporters: they never fail to get it wrong, all the time.
On the other hand, we, the Chinese, are good at telling a quack from a mile away. And Kit Siang, like his son, like today’s DAP, is a family of quacks.
Wan Azizah should stop whining: her PKR is on its way down, down, down and Anwar Ibrahim ain’t coming home soon. Live with it, woman! But — it’s a big but — if you would kick out Lim and family and all those Anglophiles and motherfucking Malaiyoos, then we, the Chinese, might just reconsider our position. Get thee behind us, Malaiyoo!
1MDB? So what? Let it all go.
We ain’t going to be worse off than we have been treated the last 50, 60 years. Mahathir had his chances a year ago to get even with Najib — the matter was handed to him on a platter so there won’t be another. Helped by Kadir Jasin, he blew it, not once but countless times. Among the biggest mistakes: setting up this Umno clone named Bersatu then inserting himself into Oppo, poisoning and dragging it down with him, with his filthy mamak hands.
It’s a simply equation: Lim + Zaid Ibrahim + Mahathir = Malaiyoo votes – the Chinese.
Sim’s Malacca revolt is just the beginning: you didn’t see that coming, did you, Lim 肏你妈 Kit Siang? We’ll screw you from behind while you are busy in the front with that Fascist. The higher up your family climbs in Penang, the farther it has to fall to land in Johor.
And there aren’t many of us needed to toss your family out the 14th Floor window. Plonk!
On your way down, you’ll wonder: Why? Why? Why?
Here’s a first in the Chinese code of ethics, and remember it while you still breathe, Old Fart: Live your life straight.
The Crook Life of Annie
Annie should throw her mother into the sea for voting the DAP the last time, along of course with all her maternal aunties and uncles and cousins and whatever.
Can someone please, please, please give her a good, proper fuck. That, or supply her a dog. And while you are at it, educate her — even if just a little — the difference between the rights of citizenship and party loyalties. After 30, 40 years, she still has the twisted fascist Umno, Malaiyoo mind that they own and are, therefore, entitled to dictate Chinese lives: we give you this, vote us that. Or else…! Go fuck your father, Stupid Phony Malaiyoo Bitch of the Valley (above), veiling her threats to kill Chinese.
Malays vote against Umno, you hear her threaten? Who the fuck does she think she is? Goddess Aminah of Kluang? Small wonder her Cina boyfriend left her dry and wetting her bed — alone — the racist bitch that she is, identical to Helen ‘Aku Cina‘ Ang.
The Old Twin Farts: we pray to Jesus and to Allah for your early deaths, and so to spare us your charades which we had endured for far too long. On your way out, take your sons with you.
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