Friday, August 14, 2020


On June 5th, 2009, I attended an 11:11 Activation Ceremony at a local healing center named "Eagle's Nest" in Sungai Penchala Village. It was a difficult spot to locate but scenic enough once I arrived. There were some really sweet folks already gathered there and it promised to be a memorable occasion.

The ceremony proceeded smoothly enough, though the energy was rather low-key throughout. For me the best part was an extended late night supper with three funky women afterwards.

A few days later, to my utmost surprise, both my legs began breaking out in boils. This was something I hadn't experienced in decades. I couldn't figure out what was happening in my body. Where was all this poison coming from?

It so happened that around this time my second daughter paid me one of her rare visits with an empath and energetic healer named Sandra Sweetman in tow. Sandra is extremely sensitive to magnetic fields and in the course of our conversation mentioned that she had recently been to the Eagle's Nest and felt troubled by what she experienced there. She said it was like the scene of a violent murder - the whole place was unsettled and rife with murky frequencies.

I couldn't say for sure that the toxins in my bloodstream erupting as boils on my legs came from the Eagle's Nest. But I had been walking around barefoot part of the time and might have absorbed some of the unwholesome exhalations from the earth. Nevertheless, I was aware that the area was charged with very primitive magic going pretty far back in time. There must have been a large enclave of bomohs (Malay witch-doctors) residing in Sungai Penchala within the last hundred years or so.

It was also clear that ruthless "development" over the last few decades had all but wiped out the original forest, including a thriving Orang Asli community in Bukit Lanjan, leaving tiny patches of green here and there. Perhaps the small hill upon which the Eagle's Nest had been built was the final refuge of all the nature spirits that had been rudely evicted from their forest home by a massive invasion of chainsaws and bulldozers?

A close friend who had been at the June 5th ceremony complained of acute lethargy and went for a medical check-up. It was discovered that she was suffering from severe bacterial infection and required a massive dose of antibiotics. She later had a session with clairvoyant healers who described her condition as a case of vampire attack. Apparently, her body was infested with astral parasites which had to be pulled out like ticks.

The clairvoyants were assisted by a shaman named Ishtar who told my friend he once lived in Sungai Penchala and on one of his walks around the area had noticed a disturbance in the magnetic field. On closer investigation he realized it was a dimensional crack through which many astral and elemental entities were emerging into the physical world. He immediately sealed the portal the best he could - but it appears to have been reopened since.

I tell this anecdote as an example of what happens when humans resort to primitive forms of sorcery to attain petty objectives, e.g., gaining political influence, securing the affections of a desired lover, or attracting heaps of money.

The entire Malay Archipelago is rife with ancient magic and mysterious phenomena. To attain and retain political power in their own countries, many have relied on occult help from professional mystics-for-hire. President Sukarno, for instance, was known to have consulted an old magician who lived in the Elephant Caves of Bali. Even Mahathir, a medical doctor by qualification, was widely rumored to be in possession of a powerful family toyol (gremlin) who did his bidding and protected him from psychic attacks.

By now it's common knowledge that Rosmah Mansor, the crime minister's larger-than-life wife, is particularly fond of magical talismans and charms and that she herself possesses a measure of witchy powers.

On 7 September 2008 I posted a story on my blog with the following commentary:

Oh dear, what is this country coming to? On the eve of the Permatang Pauh by-election, Malaysia Today featured a statutory declaration by one Thangarajoo a/l Thangavelu, former chauffeur of Datuk Kenneth Eswaran, close personal friend of DPM Najib Razak and his wife Rosmah Mansor, attesting that he had "on numerous occasions" driven a Hindu mystic named "Mr Ji" to the residence of Najib and Rosmah for the purpose of conducting Hindu prayer rituals "to ward off evil." Swamiji's magic is clearly potent, which might explain why neither Najib nor Rosmah has been subpoenaed to testify at the Altantuya murder trial, despite glaring evidence linking both to the crime.

As Raja Petra Kamarudin rightly pointed out, if what Mr Thangarajoo stated is true, it would totally invalidate Najib's widely publicized attempt to declare his innocence and non-involvement in the macabre Altantuya murder by swearing on the Koran before a mosque audience that he had "never met that Mongolian woman."

One cannot claim to be a bona fide Muslim and believe in Hindu ritual magic at the same time.

In any case, I must report that ever since the Permatang Pauh by-election which saw Anwar Ibrahim winning massively to become Parliamentary Opposition Leader, the psychic atmosphere in this country has become progressively denser and murkier. The astral gunk became even thicker towards the end of 2008 when Najib's ascension to power came under severe attack on all fronts.

Shortly before Najib took over as prime minister from Abdullah Badawi in April 2009, it was reported in the press that security personnel had stumbled on a mysterious object with Jawi letters written all over it hidden under the PM's chair. What does that mean? As to be expected, there was no follow-up to these reports.

However, I couldn't help but notice that petty squabbles soon began erupting from within the ranks of the Pakatan Rakyat - and every time there was a minor misunderstanding between PKR, DAP or PAS officials, the BN-controlled media would magnify it a hundred times, thereby creating the illusion that the Pakatan Rakyat was on the verge of disintegrating.

In the last few months the situation has further deteriorated with the onset of the annual smog caused by oil palm plantations (mostly owned by Malaysian tycoons and their cronies in Umno/BN). I myself have had to make a conscious effort to maintain my emotional equilibrium against a strong tendency towards general irritability, alternating with bouts of despair as I see the forces of darkness and injustice regain ground within the national psyche.

The fact that ever since the obscene Perak power grab people have mostly given up on the Malay rulers as bastions of justice and wisdom doesn't help either. Look around and you will notice that every public institution has been corrupted beyond redemption: first on the list, of course, would be the Polis Di Raja Malaysia, closely followed by the gestapo-like Malaysian Anti-Corruption Commission, the Judiciary (especially the so-called higher courts), and even the Malaysian Medical Council whose director-general, Ismail Merican, has shamelessly revealed himself as a political pawn of the ruling party, particularly over the controversial Saiful and Kugan cases.

Things came to a head in mid-July with the grotesque death-in-custody of Teoh Beng Hock, a fresh-faced young political secretary with the Democratic Action Party, who was hauled in for "questioning" by the MACC - and never left their premises alive. The inquest is ongoing, albeit at snail's pace.

One can easily conclude that the entire nation is now being mismanaged by black magic, just as Haiti was with the entry of the Duvalier family - or Uganda under Idi Amin and Zimbabwe under Robert Mugabe.

What can we do to neutralize this extreme negativity?

The most effective method would be to pay close attention to our own personal integrity. Rid your hard drive of corrupted and useless files; uninstall programs you never use; and clear your computer system of any spyware that might have embedded itself in your root directory. In short, cleanse yourself of useless fears, prejudices, and antiquated beliefs.

If you fall ill, look upon it as the body's way of cleansing itself of toxins. I allowed the sores on my legs to run their course in order to rid my body of all the bacteria that had infiltrated my defences. I chose to view it as a special service I was performing for the residents of Eagle's Nest, helping them clear the space for healing.

Awaken the shamanic potential in yourself. Each of us is endowed with a certain amount of psychic sensitivity and the ability to heal ourselves. Now more than ever, these natural gifts are urgently needed - if we are to free ourselves and our beloved land of malignant and vicious parasites that have fattened themselves off our vital energy for generations.

[First posted 13 August 2009]

Wednesday, August 12, 2020

The phenomenal Alex Peters (Malaysia's Rock Machine) is still absolutely awesome after all these years!

Alex Lesley Peters was born in Sentul where his father worked with Malayan Railways (“like all dads in Sentul”), but grew up in the Cochrane Road area. By then, his father had moved to the Orang Asli Affairs Department.

At 12, Peters wanted to become a Catholic priest. At 14, after the household had engaged in tense debate, he began a two-year stay at the Gethsemane Friary in Cheras, from where he bused it to the Jalan Cochrane Secondary School in the neighborhood his family lived. During those two years, music filled the Peters home in a big way. Three older brothers, each on a musical journey of his own, shared a made-in-China Kapok brand acoustic guitar with Lion brand steel strings.

Then there was Alex, home only for holidays, the youngest and clamoring for his turn on the guitar because the music was surging inside him.

“There were four young men in the house, each into Santana, Hendrix, Deep Purple, Rolling Stones, Jethro Tull, Iron Butterfly, King Crimson. The strings popped a lot. Then my first public performance came along.”

It was a penalty thing: if you did not play a sport or join a school club, you had to do something for the annual concert. Alex Peters played the guitar, his head hung down, his eyes fixed on the stage floor throughout the performance. His teammate, equally petrified, sang John Denver’s 'Country Road.'

“We barely heard the words of the song. We were so scared. I was seized with fright."

By 17, Peters was seized with rock‘n’roll. Music had taken over his life. Priestly plans were cancelled. Staying at home, he joined his brother Matthew's band Mainstream, doing mostly soft rock at private events.

Then came the big moves. He told his mother he was going to fail his MCE, that he had decided to be a singer and needed a RM173 loan to invest in a real guitar. She had something of a fit.

“She gave me the money eventually. I was focused. I think she saw that. That was the turning point. I had decided what I wanted to do with my life. There was a definite plan, a clear path.”

A path from which Peters has not veered despite occasional, sometimes long, breaks from singing. From 1978 to 1982, he was part of a group – three separate line-ups of Stratosphere – as bandmates came and went. They played hard rock, soft rock, jazz rock, disco, country & western and reggae.

In 1983, he went solo and slowly purged country & western from his repertoire, turned up the sound and acquired a rock and reggae reputation.

It repelled the older regulars at Bangsar’s Moonraker pub who came in for 'Your Cheating Heart' and couldn’t fathom the pulse of a rocker.

Peters brought in a new generation, set a new trend and attracted a bona fide cult following. One group of diehard loyalists was there every night. They called themselves the Gravediggers – they were young, full of machismo and at an age when men like to give themselves mean-sounding names.

Late in 1984, the voice went away. Alex Peters, diagnosed with voice abuse (gross loss of larynx muscle elasticity) retreated for two years and used that time to learn the workings of new generation sound machines. Then he was back with a vengeance, bringing with him that big sound he is now famous for. He created a serious following at Treffpunkt in Petaling Jaya.

In 1988, he won the first Top of the Pubs contest, sweeping the crowd with a frenzied rendition (which people still talk about) of Herbie Hancock’s 'Rockit.' The contest, now an annual event, made Alex Peters a household name.

[Source: Sunday Style, 1 November 1998]

Sentul Soul-Brother
Alex Peters @
It's virtually impossible to write about Alex Peters - and do the man justice. Simply because his interests span a broad spectrum beyond his public persona as the most popular pub musician Malaysia has ever seen. 

As a musician, his mastery of virtually all musical modalities leaves one breathless with admiration. Ever the perfectionist, he has been known to work 16-hour days just getting his backing tracks right, constantly aiming for that magical blend of polished precision and raw passion.

Somewhat of a recluse and an introvert offstage, Alex Peters possesses a deep, mystical nature that lends him the aura of a scientist monk or medieval alchemist. As long as I've known him, he has walked a taut tightrope between priest and shaman, closet scholar and magus, saint and cynic (he also happens to pay avid attention to geopolitical shenanigans and NWO conspiracies)

I am astounded by his ability to deconstruct complex compositions and lovingly reconstruct them as minus-two backing tracks, adding his own personal flourishes with impeccable guitarwork and sinewy vocals. When I first witnessed Alex Peters the Rock Machine in action during the late 1980s - that was when he pioneered the art of accompanying himself on guitar with richly orchestrated, consummately produced pre-recorded bass & synth tracks - I realized that this guy had achieved my childhood dream of becoming a musical prodigy with an encyclopedic grasp of all music.

In my adolescent fantasies I would imagine myself as leader of a band so versatile that it could play just about anything on earth - whether the classics, popular hits, ethnic-fusion, avant-garde, progressive jazz or pure funk.  Well, Alex Peters had picked up my childhood dream and run off with it - as essentially the world's most versatile one-man band (although he occasionally enjoyed collaborating with other ace musicians like Allan Perera, Simon Justin Leo and Viji).

Whether he's simulating the DJ scratch effect on Herbie Hancock's 'Rockit' with his guitar on overdrive, or creating his own raga-style Indian-flavored anthem ('Higher') with an Open D tuning that approximates the sound of a sitar & tamboura being played together, Alex's instinct for the crowd-pleasing wow factor has always been unerring. He can even out-Santana Carlos on an electronically reconstituted samba... that's how masterful the man is as a musician.

His pitch-perfect voice (which he almost lost to acute laryngitis in 1984) covers a truly remarkable range which allows him to attempt anything from the tenderest ballads and the most soulful R&B to the toughest roughest metal numbers. To my mind Alex Peters has created a musical signature that's a miraculous blend of Michael Jackson, Prince, Stevie Wonder and Jesus Christ Superstar.

As we approach yet another Merdeka (Independence Day) with mixed and murky feelings about the abysmal state of affairs precipitated by what Wilhelm Reich aptly called the Higs - Hoodlums in government - my thoughts turn to all the things that make me proud of and optimistic about Malaysia, despite the shabby treatment some of our greatest talents have been shown. 

The way P. Ramlee was left in the lurch and ignored until long after his death (when his monumental talent was seized upon by officialdom, celebrated and canonized as a Malaysian icon)... the cold-blooded manner in which Sudirman was shunned when it became apparent that he was dying of AIDs... the indifference of our cultural bureaucrats to world-class musicians like the late great Paul Ponnudurai, who spent his last years performing in a Singapore pub... well, suddenly reconnecting (thanks to facebook) with a musical supergenius like Alex Peters - who has still so much more to offer - is verily a brilliant sunbeam breaking forth from behind an ominous dark cloud. So glad we made it to this point, my illustrious Sentul Soul-Brother!

[Fisrt posted 30 August 2013]