Tuesday, September 20, 2005

As Political As I'll Get

Idle chatter about politics can turn into a full-blown ugly debate. And people wonder why I’m not the most patriotic of citizens. I don’t participate in National Day celebrations and the only way I can even remember the year of our Independence is by singing “Tanggal tiga puluh satu, bulan lapan, lima puluh tujuh…” (really singing with arm-pumping gusto). I don’t exactly know how many states we have nor their full names. I can’t (not for lack of trying) chronologically name all our Prime Ministers’ either (did we have five?). But, I tear up when I hear the recording the Merdeka declaration and bristle when I hear people diss the Prime Minister. I love my country, just not the people in it.

I was just telling them about how I once saw this leather-jacketed guy carrying a white cat (by the way, so the classic villain) getting off his bike- an ordinary kapchai-looking bike with a helmet compartment at the back. Now, the focus of the story was the bike which had shiny stenciled-stickers of slogans and statements that were extremely offensive about the state of government and Dr M. Vile statements in educated English, which probably makes it worse if you think about it. Any moron with a can of spray paint can decorate the whole of Petaling Street with “Dr M sucks large eggs!” and it still wouldn’t be as offensive. I was half-tempted to tip his motorcycle over, except that this dude was walking with the aid of a cane. Maybe someone else got to him first.

“I swear, if anyone insults Dr. M in front of me I’ll knock their blocks off!” Mike snarled, punctuating his sentence with a right uppercut. I don’t actually doubt he’d carry out his threat, should the occasion arise. He’s all principles and testosterone- the kind of guy who’d cling tenaciously to his values and fight for it without a moment’s hesitation. Also, he’d likely be the sort of guy his fellow prison-mates would call ‘Seng-Kor’ were he inclined to join a street gang.

Mae looks a little discomfited at all the staring we’re getting from the other patrons. I’d actually expect Mae to be the one all rabid about Dr. M since she actually owns every single piece of literature related to him including newspaper and magazine articles. She didn’t speak to me for a whole week when I accidentally recorded over the story CNN did about our previous PM. Putting in her two-cents worth, “Doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose of, um- being a tolerant, harmonious society and muhibbah- as per his vision?” she asks.

“Y’know, I never really knew what Vision 2020 was really all about. I only recently got the witty optometry wordplay.” I mused.

Mae frowned disapprovingly, “You’re such a traitor. Why don’t you just defect south?” I made a face- the Sterile South? I’d rather be tried for treason first.

“Look, I just wanna know if I can bash their heads in, okay? To puckery with th’ Vision,” demands Seng-Kor. Better start saving up money for a good lawyer now.

“No-lah, you idiot.” I slap him upside the head. “It’ll be like smacking people who diss Ghandi.”

“Yes,” Mae acceded “Cause that’d be, uh- against his… um,”

“Teachings?” I ventured.

She grimaced, “I wanted to say that but it sounded so Rajneesha cultish with the whole crimson robe-wearing, little bell-clanging and selling of daisies in airports.” She’s never been the same since her first Hare Krishna encounter overseas. It must have been quite the spiritual experience to have affected her so deeply.

“Okay,” Mike looked confused now. “So, no beating up of the Ghandi-dissers ‘cause that would mess up his peace mojo, right?”

“Oh, but the delicious irony! T’would be something to behold,” I expressed dramatically.

“Yeah, c’n you imagine?” Mike wraps his fingers around an imaginary neck in front of him and starts to throttle the air violently. “You little pr*ck! You take that back- Ghandi’s not a tree-hugging loony!” We laughed raucously as people started to stare at Mike who was really roughing up his imaginary foe. “…and take that, an’ that! So there, that’ll teach ya!” he ends his tirade with a spectacular left hook-right jab combo as Mae giggles non-stop at his antics.

And people say that youths nowadays have no sense of loyalty to the country.

END

Author’s notes : ‘Cept for leather-wearing, white cat-carrying, offensive lame dude and the part where I actually have to sing th’ song to get the year of Independence; it’s all fictional. Cool people like Mike and Mae only exist in my head.



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An exclusive sneak preview of my in-progress project ‘Road Trip’.

SCENE : [The rest stop. Andrew (driver) and James (backseat driver) are fooling around with the camera. They drop it as Mel and Lydia get onboard the car. Camera is now sideways on right backseat (wedged between backpacks) and pointed towards front passenger seat. We don’t see much, but can see general movement of butts and hear voices.]

Mel : (gets into front passenger seat) Okay, let’s go.
James : I wanna sit in the front.
Mel : (sighs) Fine.

[They get out of car (we hear car doors open and close) and exchange seats. Mel sits on the cam and screen goes dark.]

Lyd : Where’s the cam? (muffled)
James : You’re sitting on it, Mel.
Mel : Oh. (she lifts the camera to film Andrew pulling out of the rest stop) Ew, its all wet. What did you guys do with it?
James : Andrew got sweaty hands.
Andrew : Eh!

[Everyone falls silent as Lydia takes a tissue and starts to wipe it down.]

James : I wanna go to the toilet.

[Collective tsk and sighing]

END SCENE

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Plus, because you’ve all been so very good- a quote from '8-Ball : The Future Movie'.


Mel : Will the blind date go well? Is he hot? [shakes 8-ball] (NO). Okay, okay-
ask the right questions. Uh, let’s see… will I find him attractive? (YES)
Alright! [pumps fist in air]
[beat]
Mel : Crap. My standards have totally gone down the toilet.

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