Saturday, March 9, 2024


Aitelyu ah, every year laif getting harder,
Not like lastaim so seemple one.
You remember ornot dat taim we all in skool
Honda Cub five hundred dollar can buy.
Now how much oridi? Five tausend over!
Becos of INGFLATION wat, dey say…
So whatever happen to INFLASI SIFAR hah?
Dis mins debladigarmen’s kempen for “Zero Ingflation”
Only add up to NUTTING lor…
But aisodonolah…

Da udder day my son come home from skool,
Say he nid computer.
Defler form one only, man,
Oridi want to so high-teck!
Ackchwurly ah, he say, nowdays got standard six buggers
Using word plocessor – Oi! Mamasan 2020, yutingwat!
So like a bladifoo I take da rascal to the IT Expo
And buy him two tausend linggit computer,
Summore Pentium VII one.
Now defler as soon as he back from tiewshun
Oridi sitting like hunchback wid new video game:
Taa-taaaa-taaaaaaang! Zoop-zooooop!
Waaah, got STEREO sound one, pulak:
CIA, James Bond and Mossad versus Al-Qaeda and Al Gore!
Arfturds I go and see how da bladi ting works lah –
And da ungratefoo chap, ah,
He tell me to go away!
Never gif his old man chan to play…
Aiyoh, chewren dese days ah, watusay,

Hweeyoh, doan tok to me about TRAFFIC JAM, brudder,
See my blood pressure oridi shoot up!
Lemme arsk you ah: got so many so-call ickonomicks expert,
How come dey kennot add up how much
Taim, patrol, energy and payshuns wasted
In da bladi name of Progress, hah?
And how come da Otorities seemply allow
Dose gawdam devilopers to build high-rice condo
Even where got only kampong road?
Tingking of da FUTURE, da tick-skin flers say.
WHOSE FUTURE, I arsk you? Their own lah!
Three housing projek oridi can retire,
Get free condo summore…
Cheh! Aisodonolah…

You want to hear a good joke ah?
Why garmen awfis orways got Piles of Work?
Becos dose buggers sit on their fat backside all day long
Till dey all kena PILES pulak –
So dey say PILES OF WORK is Ockupayshunal Hazard lah, haha!
But now ah, I hear dey will be UPGRADED, man:
Every seevil servant will get computer and internet
Under da Smart Awfis Plan -
Mins da furniture smarter than deflers who work there lah!
Dat’s wat MULTIMEDIO SUPER CURRYPUFF is all about lah:
From Mediocracy to Mediacrazy – waffor, man?
We only arsk dem to bekum NICER HOOMIN BEANS –
No nid for all sorts of ackspensif e-kwipment lah.
Frankly spikking ah, so many kampong steel got no paip water
Or letrickcity; nearly half da bladi pawpoolayshun
Kennot read or rait (nemmain their speling lah)…
Steel sumflers want to ackshun only,
Yuting we kennot awford ah?
Twenty million a month oso no ploblem, man!
But where da heck da money coming from?
Oso, where da fuck da money going?

Tok tok tok tokkok only!
ISO dis and ISO dat,
Aisodono wat.
Everywan and Kompeni going GREEN nowdays,
Mins wat? Learn to PLAY GOLF ah?
Including GREED.
Watudu, booshit is manure - and manure good for growth wat,
You better sharrup and main your own affairs.
Any ploblem call Gurmit or Karpal Singh lah!
But who will do our Dirty Work for us, hah,
Wen dose flers retire?

Oridi everyting PRIVATIZED and PIRATIZED,
Now no more Public Sektor lah!
Survival of the Fattest, yutingwat –
Dontch know your Charles Darwin ah, brudder?
“Aiyah, CARI MAKAN lah,” some say,
But ackchwurly ah, CURI MAKAN only.
Sneak around wid bags full of LOOT,
When caught REDHANDED AND REDBOTTOMED wid pants down
Like dat oso never get da BOOT!
Ackshun spik lauder than words, dey say,
But in dis kiasu-kiasi so-sigh-ty ah,
You tok too laud you get DETAINED;
Kip quiet only, you bin DEBRAINED…
So waffor I tok to YOU ah?

[Written 29 January 1997; revised 4 March 2007]

Quote of the Moment (reprise)

Leonard Cohen, in a 1998 conversation with Pico Iyer:

"I feel we're in a very shabby moment, and neither the literary nor the musical experience really has its finger on the pulse of our crisis. From my point of view, we're in the midst of a Flood: a Flood of biblical proportions. It's both exterior and interior - at this point it's more devastating on the interior level - but it's leaking into the real world. And this Flood is of such enormous and biblical proportions that I see everybody holding on in their individual way to an orange crate, to a piece of wood, and we're passing each other in this swollen river that has pretty well taken down all the landmarks, and pretty well overturned everything we've got. And people insist, under the circumstances, on describing themselves as 'liberal' or 'conservative.' It seems to me completely mad."

[First posted 5 March 2007]

Friday, March 8, 2024


This is how I look right now, folks, after several weeks' immersion in nothing but dickhead news - all reeking of dead-rat Mamak politics (remember the horrid stench that hung over the nation for 22 years? Well, folks, I can smell it creeping in again, how about that? Guess nobody bothered removing that dead rat from under the floorboards...)

Is it too late? Have we gone past the point of no return? Are you happy now, all you status quoists who kept saying GE12 was really about giving Umno "a wake-up call" - not about removing the vermin completely from power? Well, vermin will be vermin and once they become the govermin, you'll never be completely free of them, since they're pretty good at jumping ship and switching sides.

As long as vile and pernicious politicians continue to promote the absolute nonsense that this land has always been called "Tanah Melayu" (the name "Malaya" actually derives from the Tamil word for mountain, malai; I kid you not, folks, and the Malay Archipelago actually means "archipelago formed from mountains")... as long as those who consider themselves Melayu first - before they consider themselves Manusia (human) - continue to fear dogs, pigs and sultans... we shall remain a failed nation ruled by dickheaded dictators.


Are you still hoping to secure that 2-billion-ringgit contract from your political contacts? Well, turn your back on it - if you can! It's blood money and can only bring you and your posterity negative karma. You keep saying you'll stop buying their newspapers. Well, how come I still see The Star and NST on sale in the newsstands?


I've been jotting down the names of The Accursed: all those who self-servingly prop up corrupt regimes for short-term gain. All those half-baked judges hell-bent on serving their own retirement plans rather than justice. All the opportunistic lawyers who do the bidding of their criminal paymasters; the pathologists and hospital directors and heads of medical associations whose public utterances have revealed them as institutional eunuchs. All the tainted police officers with criminal tendencies who lie out of every pore with total impunity... while their men continue to harass, torture and kill without so much as a rebuke. All those who continue to write speeches, design websites, churn out propaganda for the Crude, the Bad and the Ugly in power...


While I was wondering what I would do on National Dickhead Day (coming up in only three weeks), a friend forwarded a bunch of photos supposedly from an annual celebration of the phallus in Japan. We ought to take a cue from the Japenis and construct giant effigies of all our national dickheads - what we can do with them I leave to your imagination.

Here's a truly charming video all the way from Israel...

THE NATIONAL ERECTION (Tel Aviv, 11 June 2007)

[First posted 11 March 2009. Reposted 12 March 2014]

Thursday, March 7, 2024

Anchoring the Arcturus/Antares Midway Station on Earth (a tribute to eternal friendship)

Antares with Shanthini Kandiah & Dave Cawson in February 2017

I was traveling with my 13-year-old daughter Belle in Nepal, December 1984, when I bumped into Shanthini and Dave Cawson at the Biman office in Kathmandu. Our flight back to Kuala Lumpur involved a compulsory 3-day stopover in Dhaka, Bangladesh, hotel paid for by the airline. We ended up marooned in the Blue Nile (a no-budget dive on New Elephant Road) chatting a lot. 

Dave, Mary & Shanthini
Discovered that Shanthini's dad Kandiah was once based in Batu Pahat and he was my dad's drinking buddy. Dave was a fan of John C. Lilly (pioneer in dolphin intelligence research and inventor of the Samadhi Tank) and so was I. 

Mary Maguire met Dave and Shanthini in 1989 soon after she met me... and here we are, many adventures later, still a bunch of jolly good friends! ❤ ❤ ❤

What first drew me to Dave was the astounding similarity of our vision quests. My awakening in 1969 and his in 1971 looked like "nervous breakdowns" from the outside but were, in truth, powerful breakthroughs. This led Dave to explore the depths of his own psyche via metaphysical teachings preserved by the Rosicrucians and, later, through a funky Dane turned Karma Kagyu lama named Ole Nydahl. Over the decades, our orbits have intersected in a slow dance of telepathic resonances and synchronicities.

In keeping with his priestly lineage, Dave has always been more cautious, more conservative in his approach to the mysteries than I am inclined to be. Our deep soul connection has been one where Dave would listen in astonishment to my stories but he would always reserve judgment, opting to adopt a more Apollonian outlook (as opposed to my Dionysian proclivities).

Dave and I haven't been in regular contact for quite a few years but on October 31st, 2020, I received an email from him which profoundly touched my soul:

Dear Friend,

How fare thee? Many good wishes for your health, wealth and happiness. Long have I wanted to write this to you but so many times the hand is stayed and rightly so. The heart is now fully open, thusly the rest. How could it be otherwise?

Many places have I known you and much have I marvelled at your radiance. Always accepting the other's weakness you exemplify the expansion of human love into divine love. The threshold of realisation - the gateless gate - indeed the eye of the needle. The paradigm shift explicable at last. You always had the words, you shone like the sun itself, but veiled from the profane - exactly! So great is god that you as a manifestation are indeed god. Already you know - like the Eagles' "She can't take you anywhere you don't already know how to go." 

So, my appreciation of your presence in my life is the illustration of my consciousness, not a subtle attempt to propitiate - ah that devious ego - but no that finally collapsed when I stepped in fiery embers two weeks ago. I'm only now able to walk - totter actually. Phew - firewalkers raise their vibes so high they can and do walk through fire. So this one found out the truth that day and it penetrated - so what we think is the end after years of trying is actually only the first step on an infinite path. A platitude, a truism to the wise.

Today we fly without having to leave the ground. Soon you'll turn around, who is that in my peripheral, but once again nothing. Ah then slowly, we hold without looking, but knowing and looking. Maybe today, maybe not, maybe another time, maybe never, maybe always. I gotta work on my firewalking -  what a trip. What a long strange trip it's been. 

In eternality,

31 October 2020

My response was immediate:

My beloved friend from beyond the spacetime continuum, Hail Arcturus, good old Dave!

Only a tiny handful of friends left who write me the occasional juicy email, we're so accustomed to quick messages via whatsapp & FB messenger these days. 

Thank you for the special treat & the heartfelt & deeply appreciated positive feedback. You are among, literally, a handful of human associates with the necessary advanced perceptual faculties to see beyond outward appearances & are thus able, at precisely the right moment, to provide me with just the right amount of reassurance for me to soldier on, regardless. I've been lucky to have encountered a few random humans gifted with the sight who have reported seeing the full extent of my energy field. 

In February 2019 I reconnected with another Nefertiti embodiment who has the clairvoyant ability to observe an impressive range of frequencies. She told me she was shocked to accidentally catch a glimpse of my true form, which she described as an 11th Dimensional entity! That was nice to hear & we did have a go at reconnecting as husband & wife, for old times' sake, but that only lasted a few months. She was always seeing dragons around the area & told me she saw us both transforming into dragons when our energy fields merged.

How did you end up walking on hot coals (leftover bonfire in the garden?) Fortunately my first & only experience of firewalking occurred under the flamboyant auspices of Tony Robbins in 2005, when Belle treated her Daddyums to a 5-day Unleash the Power Within seminar in Sydney (even paying for airfare & accommodation). The event started at 2:30PM with around 3,000 participants & Tony was able, by 9:30PM to persuade nearly 2,000 newbies to attempt the firewalk. I just had to experience it & boy am I glad I did! There were 22 lanes of smoldering embers tended by professional teams & it was a brilliant way to give the group a peak experience on the very first day.

There's too much to tell & yet nothing at all. The Time Compression Effect we've been feeling since 2012 makes everything appear like a blur, one day becoming the next & each month merging into another & the only way we can tell we've been traveling at all is when we look in the mirror & notice the wear & tear on our vehicles. Nevertheless, I for one am extremely grateful I can still hop from rock to rock & imagine myself immortal (though for some years now my third leg can only maintain the pace with a little bit of help from Ali's Cane).

With Love Supreme & Eternal,

31 Oct 2020

I celebrate the beautiful soul bonds that keep some of us connected over multiple incarnations - and it is always a thrill when we encounter someone we know we have known since the beginning of our adventures in the physical realms. 

To the deathlessness of friendship and love beyond appearances.

AA Midway Station – Arcturus/Antares Midway station, located interdimensionally above the planetary midpoint between Jupiter and Maldek (Asteroid Belt). Also known as “the Mother Ship” the AA Midway station is the location of the particular unit of the Galactic Federation assigned to monitoring the star system Velatropa 24.3, scene of the final dramas of the Free Will experiment.


[First posted 25 February2021]

Monday, March 4, 2024

Free Yourself From Fear! (revisited)

Thirty-seven years have elapsed since Operation Lalang when Dr M (in his capacity as Home Affairs Minister) used the Internal Security Act (ISA) to arrest 108 people and detain them without trial - some for up to two years. Several newspapers were shut down and the shadow of fear fell upon the entire country. Those were dark days indeed, and Malaysia has never fully recovered from that trauma.

Police brutality, violent suppression of public dissent, the rule of fear. These are nightmare realities to be banished from the present and the future. Rather than wallow in images of oppression and authoritarian government, let's focus instead on images of beauty, freedom, and a mass awakening to joyful realities that transcend the quotidian world of foul-smelling politics.

The power of the imagination when aligned with the heart - and the will to consciously co-create heaven on earth - cannot be underestimated. Never allow your dreams to be hijacked and turned into nightmares by benighted souls who feed vampire-like off your weaknesses. Stay centered in the heart and don't let your mind be clouded by anxiety and other people's opinions.

Turn off that TV and if you have to buy newspapers, read only the comics. Truth is, newspapers are good for only three things: wrapping fish, lining the bottom of birdcages, and lighting bonfires. Declare independence from all ideologies, liberate your body from the dictates of petty-minded patriarchs. Follow your bliss and hurl yourself wholeheartedly into everything that's fun!

This blogpost is dedicated to the fearless souls who cherish freedom above creature comforts - and who have dedicated their lives to walking their talk and embodying their own ideals. The Earth is a living being, indeed she is the symbol of the Sacred Feminine so perfectly reflected in Nature's beauty.

Take time out to chat for hours with your buddies in coffee shops. Take your dog for a long run on the beach. Watch Tom & Jerry cartoons with your kids. Just laugh out loud every time a control-freak politician or bureaucrat opens his big fat mouth in public. Spare them as little energy or attention as possible. They are mostly a bunch of greedy and vicious parasites - the world will be a happier, healthier place without them.

Listen to your own heartbeat... and you will hear the music of the spheres! Transcend. Ascend. You are Infinite Potential incarnate!

Be it so.

[First posted 27 October 2007, reposted 6 November 2014 & 15 March 2019]

Sunday, March 3, 2024


I UNDERSTAND the colonial mind extremely well. That's because the memory of having been a series of megalomaniacal empire-builders remains vividly imprinted in my deep psyche and prompts me to do everything in my power to warn the present generation against the insidious dangers of attempting to impose a rigid control grid over forces beyond our comprehension.

Perhaps this explains my visceral rejection of all forms of bureaucratic arrogance and misguided efforts to "civilize and domesticate" the natural world. Much as I love my sister, daughter #1, son-in-law, granddaughters, and all my beautiful nieces, nephews, cousins and grandnieces in Singapore - I'm always loath to visit the so-called Merlion City with all its infamous restrictions (no smoking in public places except where specially designated; and, in the old days, no longhaired men which necessitated my buying a shorthair wig just to gain entry).

In November 2009 I had a close encounter with bureaucratic heavyhandedness which left a slightly sour taste in my mouth. It all arose over the hoo-ha a local businessman raised about the illegal road upgrading project in Pertak Village. This guy happens to be a member of PPP (People's Progressive Party) and a close friend of Dato' T. Murugiah (left), deputy minister in the Prime Minister's Department who oversees the Public Complaints Bureau.

I was surprised to receive a phonecall from T. Murugiah's personal assistant, a very pleasant lady named Shamini Bhaskaran, asking me for some background to the situation. So I wrote her a long email detailing the scenario and, before I knew what was happening, was informed that Dato' T. Murugiah was planning a visit to Pertak Village to see for himself what was going on. But before he could do so, he required a formal complaint to be lodged with his department, so I accepted the role - since Murugiah's businessman friend was unwilling to expose himself to the risk of losing the support of local bureaucrats who largely remain loyal to the Barisan Nasional.

On 15 September I had been visited by three Special Branch officers who informed me they were investigating a police report lodged against me by one Rapi Bata Abdullah - an Orang Asli Muslim convert and Umno member who had written a letter to Kuala Kubu Bharu state assemblyman Wong Koon Mun (right) requesting that the old logging trail through the Pertak forest reserve be asphalted.

To legitimize his request, Rapi had persuaded Bidar Chik, Batin of Pertak, to sign the letter. According to the SB officers, Rapi Bata had accused me of "obstructing" his road upgrading project (and thereby opposing "development" for the marginalized Orang Asli). He also alleged I was an agent of Western environmentalists and was harboring "Mat Salleh" activists - that's right, who are all jealous of Malaysia's success (yup, Mahathir has certainly left his indelible mamark... oops, I mean, mark on an entire generation of civil servants)!

This was followed by a visit from several high-ranking officers from the Selangor JHEOA (Orang Asli Affairs Department) who gently reproached me for bypassing them and going straight to the Public Complaints Bureau. I told them to their face that if it were up to me I would shut down their department without hesitation. Of course, I'd ensure that the people who worked in JHEOA would either be reassigned to other departments - or be given a generous payout so they could start their own businesses or acquire some useful skills.

Murugiah is crowned King of PPP in a party coup staged in May 2009

Dato' T. Murugiah's visit, originally scheduled for 30 October, was postponed for a week (his p.a. called up at the last minute and apologized on behalf of her boss, saying he was under the weather). My cellphone began ringing non-stop on the morning of 6 November. Reporters from the national news agency Bernama and Utusan Malaysia (Umno's much-maligned mouthpiece, famous for its acute ethnocentric halitosis) called up asking directions to Pertak Village.

It was amusing to see the media circus surrounding Dato' T. Murugiah's official visit. YB Wong Koon Mun was there accompanied by a cadre of MCA flunkeys in their North Korea-style paramilitary uniforms, along with reporters from Sin Chew Jit Poh and possibly Nanyang Siang Pau too. The New Straits Times was represented by a friendly but understandably jaded hack, while NTV7 sent a mobile unit and a very gung-ho crew to cover Murugiah's historic visit.

Even the district police chief, Supt Norel Azmi Affandi Yahya, was present with a platoon of senior officers (including the delectable Inspector Yusnita Samsudin who had "interviewed" me at the KKB police station at 11pm the night before, having sent a vanload of bullies-in-blue to summon me to her office).

When I was given the chance to speak, I voiced my indignation at the rude behavior of the policemen who had arrived at my residence at 10:30pm, demanding that I go down to the station to record a statement - and threatening me with arrest if I didn't comply.

They had clearly exceeded their authority in so doing, since I had commited no offence - and the urgency of the matter was entirely due to their dragging their feet on this case till the very last minute. They could have telephoned me anytime over the course of six or seven weeks, politely requesting that I come to the station at my own convenience to tell my side of the story.

In response, Supt Norel could only brag that the police in their zeal to perform their duties do not observe office hours. Such a smug and pompous old-school cop, he certainly would look the part better with a 19th-century-style handlebar mustache.

All in all, I estimate a total of 90 people were involved in this public relations exercise which was essentially an attempt to justify the RM200,000 roadworks through a forest reserve - and demonstrate how caring and generous the Barisan Nasional government was towards rural voters like the Temuan of Pertak Village.

My original complaint focused on the possibility of hanky-panky involving the misuse of public funds. YB Wong Koon Mun is, after all, a contractor and entrepreneur with fingers in many pies; and his Umno cronies have never been known to be overly concerned about how the Orang Asli are faring (indeed, the only thing that interests them is whether there are any logging concessions or resort projects they can apply for). Furthermore, Wong had instructed his contractor to start digging without obtaining the necessary permits from the District Office and Forestry Department.

When the Selangor state government learnt about this, a stop-work order had been issued through district councillor Chua Yee Ling - but, as to be expected, that only delayed MCA Wong for 3 or 4 days - the time it took for him to erect an official signboard announcing the road upgrading project.

This was clear proof that the Pakatan Rakyat state government is being undermined every step of the way by deadwood bureaucrats who haven't yet understood that Barisan Nasional wasn't appointed by Allah to forever misrule the country and enrich itself at public expense. It's a very serious issue that must be addressed. But how? Only a complete change of government at the federal level will resolve the problem.

Nevertheless, if an expensive "infrastructural upgrade" could be conjured out of thin air, these Barisan Nasional types become suddenly very anxious to help their indigenous brethren assimilate into the modern world (never mind lah that most of them remain stubbornly heathen) And, of course, what better emblems of modernity than asphalted roads (complete with speedbumps), cellphone towers, and - serunai fanfare plus a brief burst of kompang, please - STREETLIGHTS! Yes, the very things one requires to live comfortably at the edge of a forest. [Note: in 2016 the Orang Asli Affairs Department suggested that a toll-gate be constructed so that all visitors to the popular picnic area could be charged RM1. The Orang Asli seem quite happy to follow suit and become rent-seekers, albeit low-end ones, but making visitors pay a toll just to commune with nature has certainly degraded the magical feeling people used to experience upon arriving at this scenic spot.]

MCA Wong described my protest as Greenpeace-inspired activism. Thanks for the compliment, Wong!

Rapi Bata Abdullah was the featured guest star of the day - a showcase Orang Asli with all the correct-correct-correct attitudes. First he had become a Muslim (at least in name); next he had joined Umno and seen the light. He understood all about commissions and cost overruns and how to instigate environmentally ruinous projects. Above all, he was loyal to the Barisan Nasional government and was aware that "militant tree-huggers" like me are the Enemies of Progress (as measured in the shallowest and most superficial terms).

In his desire to be seen as "progressive" Rapi had unwittingly turned himself into the Orang Asli version of an Uncle Tom. For a few official favors (and some quick bucks by way of payoffs) he had severed his own ancestral connections to the sacredness and inviolability of the land and was proud to be paraded before the crony media as an Orang Asli ready to embrace "modern values" - as represented by physical trappings such as asphalted roads, piped water, electricity, satellite TV, mobile phones, streetlights, neatly-mown lawns, even a toll gate - and endless bills to pay.

The way the mid-level bureaucrats fawned and fussed over the visiting deputy minister, one would have imagined him to be at least a royal emissary, if not a king.

A century ago, T. Murugiah would probably have arrived on elephant back, with a full panoply of ceremonial guards and a bugle brigade. He would have been carried in a gilded palanquin to inspect the roadworks whilst being fed exotic tidbits by native girls bedecked with multicolored hibiscuses in their perfumed hair.

This is precisely what's wrong with the Barisan Nasional misgovernment. They're too enamored of pomp and circumstance. They love a splendid display of extravagance (city streets festooned with flashing lights and giant ketupats every Hari Raya) and, of course, the demonstrations of almighty grandeur and worldly power the Sultans have made their royal trademark.

(courtesy of

Can I blame the Brits for this, I wonder? After all, it was they who handpicked the most corruptible and compliant amongst the contending Malay chiefs to be crowned as Sultans (an honorific conveniently borrowed from the Turks). It was in their own interests to cultivate a narcissistic, self-serving species of native leader who would be so aloof and detached from their own subjects they would pose few problems for the colonial masters, who would then supplant the Sultans as the real government of the land.

When the Brits created a Malay political class to take over the lower echelons of bureaucracy, they taught them how to keep the hoi polloi at arm's length and present an unassailable façade of divinely ordained authority. Indeed, if you observe how Barisan Nasional ministers like to be fêted and fawned over wherever they go, you will certainly conclude that they all believe that being voted into public office gives them the divine right to be treated like pseudo-royalty. Hence, they view it as their religious duty to squirrel away massive amounts of non-declarable lucre in some offshore account whilst keeping just enough to set themselves up in palatial style.

And now, some 60 years after the Brits have returned to their swiftly shrinking, once-great imperial home, their political heirs, the Umno fat-cat bureaucrats, are faithfully maintaining the colonial legacy by recolonizing the original natives of this fair and bountiful land.

If the Orang Asli Affairs Department is allowed to continue existing, it wouldn't surprise me to find a future generation of Orang Asli behaving as corruptly, myopically, and arrogantly as their Malay mentors. By then they would willingly have exchanged their Orang Asli status for the dubious privilege of being lumped together with the Sumatran, Javanese and Bugis descendants of brigands, pirates and refugees from tribal wars.

As for Dato' T. Murugiah himself, I found him fairly intelligent and suave, oozing with effortless charm and self-confidence - but, alas, too typically a Barisan Nasional politician to be taken seriously as a human being. A few weeks after his visit to Pertak Village, I read in the news (online, of course) that Murugiah was in the process of being thrown out of the PPP. Should that happen, he would become a partyless deputy minister, and therefore vulnerable to vicious attacks from his cannibalistic colleagues in the increasingly irrelevant, insufferably arrogant and irredeemably corrupt Barisan Nasional.

Indeed, Murugiah might even lose his cabinet seat. Well, if that does occur, his p.a. has my phone number. I'd be happy to offer him some counseling on how to regain his human core and child-like spontaneity - and charge him ten times my usual fee.

[Originally posted 6 December 2009. Reposted 1 March 2018]