Friday, 30 December 2011

Prime Eventualities


It used to be that times flies when you’re having fun, but these days, times zips through regardless. In barely two days time, 2011 ends and in comes 2012.

Just what CAN we expect next year for Malaysia?

From the looks of it, pretty much the same of tired shtick in political maneuverings between the two combatants of Barisan Nasional and Pakatan Rakyat with a general election due to be called anytime between now and 2013; one which PMNTR surely hopes to finally give him the “official” mandate.

Right now he is up there courtesy of being an Umno president elected by party delegates which accounts for no more than 0.02 percent of the whole population.

I wonder if we can ever elect our choice Prime Minister ourselves. Say, from the list of Parliamentarians elected through the general election. Shouldn’t be difficult to do, give the technological advancements we’ve seen since the last decade or so.

That way, the PM will have NO CHOICE but to be accountable to the general public at large. The political party with the prerequisite number of seats to form the government gets to nominate the fellas to lead the country, but should the Rakyat feel the options offered are crappy, they can opt for another in their place.

Of course, each of them will have to tell exactly why we should choose them – something along the lines of having a Prime Ministerial debate session or so. Televised would be a good option in reaching the masses.

We can then assess if the upcoming leader of the country is truly worth his salt for a vote, or otherwise.

Thus we can take away the party’s influence (where the alleged warlord and what not interests can sometime hold a leader sway) especially when it comes to the financial benefits of being the hand that signs the document.

I think I made a list sometime ago of possible candidates from Umno, but with the party seems burdened with a bewildering inertia on all things civil and the ABU campaign being ramped up exponentially; we may need a second, an alternative list.

Perhaps the parties vying for the Rakyat’s vote can nominate possible PM contenders prior to the GE voting, so that the Rakyat can discard unwanted candidates right off the cuff and culling the list to the minimum, thus making the choosing much easier.

Fairer still, we should review the voting from the current first-past the post method with its inherent unfairness vis-à-vis gerrymandering of the constituencies to something more proportional.

(Proponents of the ABU movement will say that the current system tilts the balance to the long-time-lording-over-the-masses Barisan Nasional. Well, blahhh…. We don’t see any peeps from you guys on changing it. Or have you? MY apologies if I missed that one.)

Alas, this is wishful thinking, and come March, or July, or whenever it is that PMNTR finally decides to be the opportune time to dissolve the Parliament, the PM will be someone who is first and foremost a Party man and country second.

Hell, you don’t have to look any further than NTR himself.

Sigh… 2012 could very be 2011 replayed.

Friday, 23 December 2011

Trombone-ing Pastiche


US truck driver David Dopp won a 640-bhp Lamborghini Murcielago Roadster, crashed it within 6 hour of owning and now plans to sell the convertible as the 34-year old couldn’t afford neither the supercar’s insurance nor its taxes.

Talk about luck, huh?

I was once stuck behind a Murcielago waiting for the traffic lights to change GO near the Kota Damansara toll plaza.

Know the feeling of being in a small car stuck in traffic with a behemoth of an old, diesel powered lorry shaking every nuts and bolts of your Perodua Viva loose? It was exactly the same with me and the Murcielago.

I think the owner did some modification as the exhaust vent was huge; enough to shove a whole head inside and check out what brewing!

Funnily enough, the driver didn’t actually zoom off the moment the lights turned green; happily ambling along like the rest of the ordinary automobile mortals.

Ivory white, so low slung that it seems to hug the road (is that the reason why you opted for slow, good sir?), the Murcielago was quite something to behold.

The driver was a youngish, bespectacled Chinese chap who had a smiley, friendly face so much that I didn’t end up envying him for having such a superb example of a motoring draw.

What would I do with a Lamborghini? Probably sell it like David Dopp. Only because I had a slip disk episode some time ago and couldn’t tolerate any sitting position other than the sit-upright style.

Tax and insurance? Yeah, that too. Even servicing my current two locally-licensed cars are already giving me quite a yearly headache.

And the money could sure go a long way in clearing off the long list of household debts which I hear is growing in good old Malaysia.

For sure, if your thoughts HAVE to veer towards such mundane things in life, a Lamborghini (or any other similarly high end motoring brand) is probably not for you.

These are the weekend toys for those whose worry is the next clear stretch for an 80 to 200kmh torque test.

Yep. All that thrum-thrumming coming for the huge exhaust is not for show.

Or rattling the nuts and bolts of its puny(er?) motoring counterparts.

Thursday, 22 December 2011

Tasked Simply

A little boy came to a bridge rickety
Made of wood, planks and steely bits
54 sens in his palm held tightly
Coins entrusted for purchase for treats

One step on the bridge, the boy started
Not too fast neither too slow the advice accorded
Careful of nails and steels bar, his mother had shouted
Off he walks on slippers thin threaded

A second step, and a third, his pace assured
Working into a rhythm, in his mind a song heard
A Sifu singing, streaming words on a species of a bird
Tanya sama itu Hud Hud, the boy’s soft voice stuttered

What was he to buy, this boy of age so young
Running errands to a shop so far flung
Shirt un-tucked atop black shorts worn low slung
Atop a bridge workers past worked unsung

He remembers now, the boy with hair uncombed
Salt it was, said it out loud with much aplomb
54 sens will get me a packet, he chirped out loud
While the light darkens, the sun hidden behind a cloud

Squinting his eyes, he saw the shop his only stop
Reaching the bridge’s end, from walk he hops
Passing bushes, rotted palms trees and fallen logs
Eager to show his mom he can earn his chop

A pack of salt, please he says
To a man who seems to has seen better days
Thrusting his hand the palm open its content displays
54 sens no more a single coin misplaced

A guffaw as the boy display a shocked face
“Don’t worry son,” the man says with practiced pace
Here’s the packet of salt, and a coin to replace
For the one lost, fell or simply displaced

And on to the rickety bridge the boy went with a grin on his red flushed face