Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Tongkat Sakhti and Old World Journos Peddling Stone Age Recipes

Actually, I wanted to blog on something else but while indulging in some cybersurfing my surfboard got beached on this site and the chronicle of a shipwreck by some crazy shaman was nothing short of astounding that I couldn’t resist the Last Temptation of the Devil.

Yes…. the tale of woe that Pakcik/ Nenek Kebayan, wielding her magic wand, (Tongkat Sakti) weaved in sheer “blood curdling” pirate style was both side-splitting and surreally macabre. Sidesplitting as he seems to imply that his 15,000 were legit and the other 32000+ illegal phantoms :
If it were not for the rough house tactics of the PKR goons, more legitimate voters would have made it to the polling stations.

and where did this blockhead get the idea that we are beholden to his masters for our internet savvy :

even know how to use the Internet if not for the education that the BN gave you?

and shiver me timbers, he is gonna wipe out 50% of the populace in an amuck of shamanian frenzy:

The BN will educate them very soon and I assure you it will be a painful lesson indeed.

Yeah… blame all your travails on us bloggers (the neutral ones included) when your sleepy head captain got his navigation all wrong and ran aground in some boon dock town- hamlet with nary an Ahoy! And to think that the captain was lured into the capsize by the village choirboy would have been all the more galling, wouldn’t it?. After all, didn’t the first mate , the second mate , the third mate and the deckhands with the acquiescence of all the friars onboard indulge in an orgy of swearing that swirled like a indolent tropical storm (that would make Fay seem like brief fart over Florida) for three weeks over many a Malay pondok in the land of Mangoes. A spasmodic outbreak of swearing initiated by a young gelding/mare that would surely leave my dear grandma blushing in her grave. A pox on their “ tender, innocent” souls for trifling with Islam!

In the end., it was poetic justice of Sophoclean proportions that the coup de grace for the twitching remains of a God forsaken carcass be delivered by the very people, all that fart of swearing tried to confute in the first place, us simpleton farmer pakciks and curry puff and goreng pisang peddling makciks (not that they had the best of alternatives anyway). Talk about hubris but then with characters like this guy lurking in the shadows, you can imagine why we are forever mired in a third world morass and fast descending into a fourth world quagmire before being swallowed in a fifth world whirlpool. Well… judging from the language, our esteemed university collieries have surely elevated themselves in the eyes of the world with products like our shaman.

But then again, all this is aint surprising at all. What with even bleary eyed ex-corporate wannabes and ex journo migrants emerging from the stagnant and muddy main and side- streams of old media into the pristine and open spaces of cyberfield. Like this bloke here, slouched as he is on an expensive sofa with a ....wait a minute……yes ..(gasp) a bookshelf of (phew) weighty tomes in the picture frame for good measure, ever willing to release some
shitgas on a hapless unmasked hero for a pittance of silvery "spittle".

Yeah… we have travelled light years away from the days when a good doctor decided to dispense his quackery on a public stage and got hold of a certain choirboy for good measure to sing his praises and pipe us all somnambulistic ally down the road of Hamelin while the merry band of thieves he (the quack) led cleaned up the vaults of the village, and manacled the bewitched masses with the chains of physical and intellectual poverty, bigotry and jingoism through five cycles of democratic debauchery. Oh yes.... that’s it! that was what I was going to write about in our dear venerable Bahasa Melayu as a companion piece to
this , when by a quirk of fate I stumbled upon Pakcik?Makcik Nenek BN Kebayan Sakti wielding his machete in all his naked glory.

For what would choir boy be without the tutelage of the Choir master …..mmmm.. Bonnie without Clyde…..the Lone Ranger without Tonto……Samson without Delilah…..Lagu without Irama hmmm….mamma without mami and the list goes on……

Revert: Sure nice to be back in BS, my dear buffalo. After all that driving up to Perlis, back down through PP, to be back in my fields of gold…oops…paddy is more than a welcome respite

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