Just a harmless bit of reminiscing with Uncle Frank...

THE OCEAN IS THE ULTIMATE SOLUTION... turn up the volume!

Illinois Enema Bandit (Frank Zappa, 1976)

The Illinois Enema Bandit
I heard he's on the loose
I heard he's on the loose
Lord, the pitiful screams
Of all them college-educated women...
Boy, he'd just be tyin' 'em up
(They'd be all bound down!)
Just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
He just be pumpin' every one of 'em up with all the bag fulla
The Illinois Enema Bandit Juice
The Illinois Enema Bandit
I heard it on the news
I heard it on the news

Bloomington Illinois... he has caused some alarm
Just sneakin' around there
From farm to farm
Got a rubberized bag
And a hose on his arm
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump
Lookin' for some rustic co-ed rump
That he just might wanna pump

The Illinois Enema Bandit
One day he'll have to pay
One day he'll have to pay
The police will say, "You're under arrest!"
And the judge would have him for a special guest
The D.A. will order a secret test
And stuff his pudgy little thumbs in the side of his vest
Then they'll put out a call for the jury folks
And the judge would say, "No poo-poo jokes!"
Then they'll drag in the bandit for all to see,
Sayin' "Don't nobody have no sympathy...
HOT SOAP WATER in the FIRST DEGREE!"
And then the bandit might say, "Why is everybody looking' at me?"
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS KINDA MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
Now, one girl shout: "Let the Bandit be!"
BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY?
BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY? TELL ME NOW, WHAT'S
YOUR PLEA?
Another girl shout: "Let the fiend go free!"
ARE YOU GUILTY? BANDIT, DID YOU DO THESE DEEDS?
The Bandit say, "It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."

The police will say, "You're under arrest!"
And the judge would have him for a special guest
The D.A. will order a secret test
And stuff his pudgy little thumbs in the side of his vest
Then they'll put out a call for the jury folks
And the judge would say, "No poo-poo jokes!"
Then they'll drag in the bandit for all to see,
Sayin' "Don't nobody have no sympathy...
HOT SOAP WATER in the FIRST DEGREE!"
And then the bandit might say, "Why is everybody looking' at me?"
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS KINDA MISERY?
WELL DID YOU CAUSE THIS MISERY?
Now, one girl shout: "Let the Bandit be!"
BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY?
BANDIT ARE YOU GUILTY? TELL ME NOW, WHAT'S
YOUR PLEA?
Another girl shout: "Let the fiend go free!"
ARE YOU GUILTY? BANDIT, DID YOU DO THESE DEEDS?
The Bandit say, "It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."
"It must be just what they all needs..."


[This post was inspired by a facebook comment left by Solo Goodspeed - check him out, he's veritably the Return of the Son of Monster Magnet! First uploaded 8 October 2012, reposted 15 August 2015]

Umno, you are hereby sentenced to death by ridicule (again!)

PLEASE DON'T OFFEND ME...
I'M A REAL SENSITIVE GUY!

I was alerted by a facebook message from a friend that my blog had been blocked. True enough, I discovered Umno cybertroopers had been at it again!

Fuckwits. Bodoh betul!

YOU DON'T HAVE A CLUE WHAT FORCES YOU'RE DEALING WITH.

Try your nonsense one more time and I shall

DELETE YOUR PAST AND YOUR FUTURE.

I kid you not.


[First posted 12 August 2009]

Oh Yes I Support Malaysian Authors 😍 (repost)

May Lee (a well-named marketing executive at MPH) welcomes me to the
Malaysian Authors' High Tea at MPH 1 Utama

Whenever I manage to get a book published I'm fashionable for at least six months. I've been getting invites from MPH to appear in the Merdeka issue of Quill, their in-house magazine; last Saturday there was this forum hosted by MPH on where Malaysia's book industry is heading (don't know why, but the word "industry" makes me shudder).

And next week (3-4 PM on Sunday, September 9th) I'll be giving a short talk on "Mythology in the Digital Age" at MPH Mid-Valley (to which everybody is cordially invited - pick up a copy of Tanah Tujuh and I'll happily scribble on the title page!)

At Saturday's Malaysian Authors Forum I found myself sitting behind Rehman Rashid, whom I hadn't seen in... well, quite a while.

Rehman was his usual larger-than-life comic-book Titan self. It was good to see somebody familiar in that room full of unknown faces (quite a few very prettily framed in designer hijabs). Maybe there are more Malaysians writing books than those actually reading them?

First-time novelist Kam Raslan was conspicuously absent - but I guess his book is doing well enough (a brilliant read, by the way, if you haven't picked up a copy of Confessions of an Old Boy: The Dato' Hamid Adventures).

There was talk of getting all Malaysian authors to form themselves into a guild. Apparently this may be the only way we'll ever break through the protective walls surrounding the literary game in the UK and the US (where the big money presumably is). Only as a organized collective will Malaysian authors have sufficient clout to set up their own literary agency and send representatives to hobnob with the movers and shakers. That's roughly what it takes to break into the global book market, according to those in the know.

I'm not much of a joiner myself - and I doubt if many writers are. Writing books is pretty much the domain of solitary types who enjoy the quietude and tranquility of the graveyard shift. Even if we do manage, out of pure self-interest, to assemble all at once and form ourselves into the semblance of a guild, it's almost a foregone conclusion that the administrative aspects will have to be farmed out to more pragmatic minds. In the end, the writers guild will most likely be hijacked by the few natural-born hustlers amongst us who get a real buzz out of entrepreneurial exertions.

In any case I can't help wondering what a Malaysian - brought up to be polite and face-giving and acutely conscious of other people's sensitivities - might have to say to the world at large. Since we've been told from a tender age never to use swear words or make fun of others - and that it's an absolute no-no to ever speak ill of VVIPs or even mention crooked judges and corrupt ministers - will we end up churning out cook book after cook book? After all, food is undeniably our unifying passion.

That's right, in Malaysia we're very good at cari makan - not cari makna!*

And yet, Malaysians have gained worldwide notoriety for three things: destroying forests by exporting loggers, committing credit card fraud with impunity, and using abusive language and venting unmitigated rage on web forums. Maybe e-publishing is what we ought to stick with?

Literary blogger Chet accosted me while I was assuaging my hunger with a few hastily swallowed curry puffs and introduced me to a svelte young lady named Choong Kwee Kim who recently published her first illustrated children's book - Ah Fu, The Rickshaw Coolie. What to do, I had to buy a copy for my grandson Max who turned seven on August 28th. Of course, I read it before wrapping it up. Excellent drawings, lovely story, Kwee Kim, very well done indeed!

-----------
*Trans: cari makan = look for food (earn our keep); cari makna = look for meaning (quest for self-knowledge)

[First posted 30 August 2007]

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat by Edward Lear (1812~1888)

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea

   In a beautiful pea-green boat:

They took some honey, and plenty of money

   Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

The Owl looked up to the stars above,

   And sang to a small guitar,

"O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love,

   What a beautiful Pussy you are,

            You are,

            You are!

   What a beautiful Pussy you are!"

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl,

   How charmingly sweet you sing!

Oh! let us be married; too long we have tarried,

   But what shall we do for a ring?"

They sailed away, for a year and a day,

To the land where the bong-tree grows;

And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,

   With a ring at the end of his nose,

            His nose,

            His nose,

   With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling

   Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."

So they took it away, and were married next day

   By the turkey who lives on the hill.

They dined on mince and slices of quince,

   Which they ate with a runcible spoon;

And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,

   They danced by the light of the moon,

            The moon,

            The moon,

   They danced by the light of the moon.