(again, this is just satire)
Yang Dipertua,
It has come to my attention that slapping is now being a culture among Malaysians, particularly amongst teachers and students for their late attendance to classes. As such I wish to propose measures to ensure equality amongst Malaysians, as per the 1 Malaysian motto’s wish to increase performance.
Firstly, since students arriving 10 minutes late to classes will be slapped, teachers who arrives late of the same duration, or leaves classes early of the same duration, will be receiving a slap from every member of the class.
This also applies to students and lecturers in our higher learning centres.
Similarly, this culture must also be implemented in the workplace to encourage performance of employees as well as employers.
The slapping of employees arriving 10 minutes late to work will be encouraged, as will the slapping of managers by all his subordinates for arriving late of the same duration.
This culture will also be implemented into contractors who are late in their construction projects. For every 10 minute delay, the government, or owner of the project, and the financiers, are allowed to slap the contractor and members of the crew.
Similarly, to encourage the culture within the government, all government projects that are delayed will be punished with a slap for every 10 minute delay for the minister whose signature approved said project. The rakyat will also be allowed to take part in this culture. If the rakyat were to meet an MP that has yet to keep an electoral promise within his area, he is encouraged to slap the fellow MP for each 10 minute delay he has made for implementing his promises.
Yang Dipertua,
If somehow slapping a student for being 10 minutes late will encourage him to come in early and be on time, then I suggest, with our culture being one that wishes to put ‘performance now’, then we as the government should be the first to experience and put this into practice.
*slaps Anwar for failing his government takeover last September 16*
Road Recommendations for 1Malaysia
Yang Dipertua,
For those who may be clueless, Malaysians are among the most creative drivers in Asia.
This is based on the fact that they put their rude and thoughtless acts when they’re in person and follow it through behind the steering wheel as well.
I think it was about two years ago that I ranted on the perfect Malaysian car for sale in this nation.
First and foremost, it’s got to be cheap, since this is what Malaysians will always look for.
In lieu of the constant experiences on the road I actually came up with some suggestions for the Malaysian automotive industry to follow to make cars cheaper.
First and foremost, Malaysian cars should only have one headlight, since this appears to be the trend among Malaysian drivers. Also, remove the signal lights. Nobody uses them.
Thirdly, make the car a two seater with a fast revving engine that can cut into any queue in a traffic jam. Also, attach a claxon loud enough so that when someone vents, they can press the horn loud enough to attract the attention of the traffic police riders, which are nonexistent or merely there to escort VIPs.
Recently, their duties have added the additional need to become traffic lights for municipalities and town councils who are too cheap or stupid to switch their ancient timer systems to sensor technology.
In addition to this, all roundabouts should be flattened and made into crossroads, since every person driving from out of Shah Alam doesn’t know how to determine which lane to take while using one. And even then, they have a problem with queuing and even waiting for traffic lights.
Roads in Putrajaya will come with walls instead of dividers to avoid cars flipping over to the other side while driving too fast and losing control, to simply kill the idiotic driver instead of having the reckless driver survive and kill off an entire family which cushioned her fall as she flipped over.
During the festive season, while it is a tradition to give out coffee at rest stops, I suggest that we just get along with the fact that these acts are not lessening deaths on highways. Therefore, I put forth a motion that we stop bothering to give people coffee, and start handing out body bags instead to quicken the clearing of the highways to avoid massive jams.
In fact, whenever an accident occurs, perhaps we could get all those roadwork video screens to post pictures of the accident to stop people from needing to slow down to look at the accident. Furthermore, the picture must also show the license plates of the total vehicles clearly, so that some of us can get to the nearest 4D store and buy their numbers.
Heck, let Sports Toto open a booth right at the accident site.
All toll lanes are to be equipped with Smart Tag, Touch n Go and cash payment methods, since Malaysians being idiots can’t seem to understand just which lane to get to while reaching the toll plaza. This will increase the speed of traffic at toll gates, thus removing traffic jams caused by confused morons who can’t even be bothered to determine their lanes because they have to reach the toll gate driving 100 km/h.
Further improvements to be made would be to permanently attach the Smart Tag to people’s foreheads to avoid them from reaching for the device last minute while driving into the gate and thus causing the system to malfunction.
A change in the law is also necessary, especially in the case of motorcycles and tailgaters.
Cars that crash during tailgating when the forward driver suddenly breaks will be considered suicide and will be charged with manslaughter caused by extreme idiocy.
Similarly, motorcyclists that die on the highway will be labelled as suicide by idiocy and, if he survives, will be charged with reckless endangerment. Should there be more than one person on the bike, it will be labelled a mass suicide.
Should tailgaters and motorcyclists survive, they shall be put on a blacklist in which every salesman approached for a vehicle purchase by these individuals have a right to defecate on them, slap them, piss on their foot or even spit on their faces .
Yang Dipertua, the government needs to accept the fact that stupid is what stupid does. As such, there’s no dealing with stupid, then to let such lives expire due to their own stupidity and arrogance.
Well, my birthday was yesterday on the 19th of October. I'm 26. In other words, I am old and I have the gray hairs to prove it.
Or that could be the results of writing about politics.
So....what should I write here?
Let's start with this..
That's right, I got a ring. In fact, it's the first ring I've ever worn, given to me by the guy I love.
That was what the weekend was about. Getting to know a guy I've been head over heels for the past 2 months, who I've known for at least 4 months.
An interesting development, I'd think.
It was also the first time he offered me the papers to keep up with national politics and I turned it down. It wasn't a time for me to get all pensive and consider what to write, when I only have a weekend with him since he's working out of town.
I'll save you the details of how we actually spent most of the time, but it was really interesting to note that the beaches of Port Dickson, Malaysia, is overtly polluted.
It didn't help that oil tankers were seen lining the coast, and debris from dying coral was found throughout the 2 kilometer stretch we walked, which was supposed to be romantic but got me thinking of just how dangerous it is that the coral reef of the Straits of Malacca are dead on the sandy beaches.
Recently, the company asked us to sign a declaration of sustainability which I could not accept for a few reasons. Primarily because I'm a smoker.
That's putting it lightly, actually. I'm a chain smoker. Something the boyfriend isn't all too thrilled about, considering he's a swimmer and needs his lungs intact.
Secondly, I'm not exactly leading a sustainable life.
I drive around town instead of walking because the heat right now is intolerable to walk in.
I go out drinking on weekends at clubs which doesn't help traffic congestion.
Heck, I don't even carpool.
To sign that I'd be doing 'my part in combating the changes in the environment the best I can', then, would be a lie.
And I don't do that often.
Ugh...I hate it when I miss out.
Firstly, I apologize profusely for being absent since early August. It's been a hectic and troubling few months for me, with some anxiety and perhaps even some cheer in the forms of finding myself a guy.
And a few friends.
And then there was Eid Mubarak, a few parties, a few nights out at the clubs, and perhaps even some intense forums on Human Rights in which I played the Devil's advocate for the first time in years and almost got myself involved in a physical altercation because I stated one simple fact.
If people insist on adhering to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, then I should be able to make out with a guy in public.
Instead of the typical response of 'go get a room', I got branded an abomination (typical) and had a glass thrown at me. Apparently religious conservatives don't exactly have the same patience to discuss things rationally as they would in the United States.
Ladies and gents,
Devastatingly announcing the death of Stephen Gately, former member of Boyzone.
OCT 7 — I actually wanted to avoid saying or writing anything about Bagan Pinang because, to be honestly truthful, I’ve run out of vodka.
Giving the corrupt a chance
Seriously, how else can you make sense of the statements coming out from Umno politicians justifying this and remain sober?
First off, we had our very own “esteemed” Home Minister come out and say that Tan Sri Isa Samad was “a loyal servant of the party”, regardless of the fact that he was found guilty of vote buying during the Umno elections.
Our Home Minister even added that Isa is the “people’s choice”.
Well, here’s a history lesson. Adolf Hitler was the “people’s choice”.
So was George Bush 2.0.
And we all know how well those two turned out.
In addition to that, it’s just the description of how exactly Isa is a party loyalist that gets to me.
Apparently, if you get a bad deal from the party called Umno and shut up about it, you’re considered a loyalist. But make enough noise, invite enough supporters into your home to listen to your side of the story, and you can expect balaclava-clad Special Branch members to break in and take you away.
Seriously, how does one make sense of any of this?
You can’t.
And people wonder why I drink?
Giving the guilty a chance
Fine, since we’re giving guilty people a chance, I think I would have liked to have given Mona Fandey a chance, because she highlighted to us just how dumb a Malaysian politician can truly be.
Just how exactly could an assemblyman, who studied in the United States, fall for a scam by an ex-pop singer promising a boost in his political career for the price of RM2.5 million?
And, of course, he just had to be an Umno assemblyman.
From Pahang, even.
This brings me to my next point.
If we’re letting corrupt representatives run for office, guilty of vote buying, then perhaps the government would also like to step in for other guilty parties by allowing “the people” to choose.
Heck, if that were the case, the Home Ministry wouldn’t have sabotaged its online poll on the Internal Security Act, which was basically what caused the swing to my now anti-ISA stance.
Not because I don’t agree with the law, it’s because I agree with one fact.
It is “the people’s choice”.
Giving entertainment a chance
This is the same stance I take when dealing with entertainment as well, especially against religious people.
Personally, I don’t see why they’re so against Beyonce coming to Malaysia. For those who may not know this, Beyonce is actually a conservative Christian and a registered Republican.
And even then, if the religious people have a problem with seeing Beyonce, why don’t they just look away or ban their kids from going?
What’s this need to stop me from watching her perform “Single Ladies”?
I’m not going to get turned on by it.
If anything, I’d probably just want to recall the dance routine.
Similarly, I don’t actually see why we need to be so harsh on underage club goers, especially since all they do is dance around getting high on music or sugar from Coke or Sprite.
Heck, some of these guys and gals may dress up rather provocatively, but then these are the ones you find drinking RM10 bottles of mineral water and dancing from 10.30pm to 3am the next day.
Contrary to popular belief, most teenage club goers and those in their early and mid-20s would actually sit at the nearest mamak and sober up over chai before driving home.
And if they haven’t sobered up, they’re fine enough to let someone else do the driving.
And for those thinking that this leads to promiscuity, think again.
They’re too tired dancing to Lady Gaga or the Pussy Cat Dolls or even Ciara to even think of having sex.
If this government or any political representative insists that we need to give corrupt people a chance to run a state for being a “loyal servant for the party”, then I’d like to put forth a better idea.
What about this. Let’s give the rakyat a chance.
Let’s give Perak a second chance to determine just who they really want to run their state by giving them a statewide election.
Let’s give Muslims a chance to determine whether they want to be charged under civil or syariah law.
Let’s give the people a say in whether or not they want the ISA to be repealed, amended or maintained without sabotage.
And, of course, let’s give people a chance to decide whether or not they want to try beer, clubbing, smoking and watching Beyonce, without having the religious right decide what’s good for them.
Look like I will be joining Mom in the nursing home. I no longer can live on my own. Coughing up blood. Sad part is no computer. I will miss it sooooooooooooooooo much.
At least I will be with Mom and I know it is a good place. Not sure of all that needs to be done yet, but I can barely walk. Major bummer guys.
Peace & Love to all Georgia
Once upon a time, a man died and went up to Heaven, where Saint Peter was waiting for him at the Holy Gates.
“I’m very sorry,” said Saint Pete, “but I can’t let you in.”
The man was shocked and very disappointed. “Why not, Saint Peter?” he asked. “Wasn’t I a good man on Earth?”
“You were a very good man, indeed,” replied Saint Pete.“But here’s what your problem was – you could not stop yourself from telling other people how to lead their lives. If they were making a mistake of some kind, you felt compelled to point it out to them.”
Once again, the man was shocked by Saint Peter’s words. “But I don’t understand, Saint Peter. Why was this a bad thing? I was just trying to help them. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do on Earth - help people?”
“Not in this instance,” replied Saint Peter sternly. “You never learned to mind your own business. And for that reason, I’m afraid you’ll have to go to Hell.”
The man pleaded with Saint Pete. “Please, Saint Peter, I didn’t mean any harm. I was just trying to help, that’s all. I didn’t know I was doing a bad thing. Please, please, give me another chance?”
Saint Peter looked at the man and could see that he honestly hadn’t meant any harm. Because that was so, he thought that perhaps he might bend the rules…just this once. However, before he did, he would test the man’s sincerity. Unbeknownst to the man, of course.
“All right,” decided Saint Pete. “I’ll go to the Higher Ups and see what I can do. In the meantime, you wait in that room over there. Just go in, and close the door behind you.”
The room to which the man had been directed was large and empty, save for a bench. As directed, he closed the door as he went in, and sat on the bench, waiting for his verdict. And as he sat, he noticed there was a narrow, open archway which led to an anteroom at the far side, opposite to where he was sitting.
As he was pondering what might be in the anteroom, the door he’d closed opened, and an angel came in. He was carrying a very tall ladder.
“Hello,” said the angel. “I hope I’m not disturbing you. Do you mind if I come through? I’ve just got to take this ladder and leave it in that anteroom over there.”
“Please, go right ahead,” said the man. “You don’t need my permission.”
And then, an odd thing happened. The man watched as the angel walked across the room towards the anteroom, turned his ladder horizontally in his arms, and attempted to walk through the narrow archway with it. Naturally, he was unable to get through, as the ladder held horizontally was now much too wide.
The man observed with incredulity as the angel made attempt after attempt to get through the archway while holding the ladder thusly. Each time, the ends of the ladder banged against the wall on either side of the opening, propelling the angel backwards, and making quite a mess of the walls it kept hitting, in the process.
Naturally, after about fifteen minutes of this, the angel was winded and perspiring.
“Whew!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t realize this was going to be so difficult.”
The man couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you serious?” he blurted. “If you want to get through, hold the damn ladder vertically!”
The angel shook his head and looked at the man regretfully. “My friend," he said, “this ladder’s not damned, but you are.”
And the next thing the man knew, he was in Hell.
_______________________
I can’t remember how old I was when my father told
me the story above, but I was still young enough that
my questions were only just starting to become
annoying to him. Those questions were on every
subject from “Why do you support the war in Vietnam?”
to “Why don’t you ever do anything to stop all the
terrible things going on in this house?”
Since he couldn’t seem to come up with any reasonable
answers for me, the parable above was an attempt to
stave off the inevitable, which was that my
questioning of him would eventually go
from annoying to unbearable… for both of us.
Even my response to this story was not what he’d
hoped. He thought I’d feel forewarned that my quixotic
nature was taking me closer to Hades every day. But
ironically, all it prompted was another litany of
questions: “What kind of angel is stupid enough to
behave like a human?” and “What kind of God would
send a man to Hell for questioning human stupidity?”
It wasn’t until many, many years later that I recognized
that my father had a point, though perhaps not in the
way he’d believed. Anyone at all, with an average
human intelligence, understands very well which
way one needs to hold a ladder in order to get it
through a narrow archway. But pretending that he
doesn’t, he accomplishes one thing – he can tell himself
he tried to get through with everything he had and
just couldn’t succeed.
The fact is, he doesn’t want to succeed. He says
he has to get through a door and deposit a ladder in
an anteroom, but he doesn’t truly want to.
He just wants to pretend to himself and everyone
else, that he really, really tried.
And because this is actually what he wants – that
illusion of the attempt of a completion of a 'task', which is
another word for a ‘change’ – rather than the actual
change – he doesn’t want anyone to point out to him
that his ‘attempt’ is in actuality no attempt at all.
He doesn’t need anyone getting in the way of
his self-deception. Like my father, it will more
than irritate him, because by pointing it out, making him aware that you are aware that he’s lying to himself, you will make him hate himself and, as a result, (especially if your own attempts at change are real, and your desire to help him is motivated out of genuine caring, rather than smug superiority) – he will hate you, too.
A fast way to hell, indeed.
Remember that the next time you
(metaphorically) observe an intelligent adult holding a ladder horizontally, trying to get through an archway.
Say nothing. Wish him “good luck,” and get out of his way.
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I'm sorry I can't answer comments here. They are not possible to answer due to a software glitch on my page, which has now even begun to affect the appearance of my blogs. It's degenerative, I swear.And very irritating.
If you'd like to leave me a message, please visit patriciavolonakisdavis.wordpress.com. Thank you very much.
Kzinti and Baria - thank you for your comments over at my wordpress blog. They meant a lot. I miss you.
They are two good sized spiders on the porch. I don't bother them (except taking a picture) & they don't bother me.
Things about the same with Mom. Going out there with a friend to have lunch and take her cards to mail out.
I think my Mom's friend has the storage unit and expensive glass stuff figured out. I am trusting that she does. My income has now dropped by 200 hundred a month. How I will make it is a good clue. Peace @ Love Georgia
