May 9, 2013

Democracy

Let me ask you a question, people. You go to a multinational company, to a specific department, let’s say, engineering. You meet up with the manager of that department, and in front of him, you tell him this: “I am an awesome engineer. Hire me, give me a chance. I’m going to solve all your problems and make your engineering department the most productive department in the whole company.”.

That’s suppose to be your bid to vie for a position with a handsome paycheck that he wanted to hire for his team.

How do you reckon would the engineering manager react?

a) Ask for your credentials, qualifications, experience and a barrage of questions before asking you to go home and wait for his phone call.
b) Ask you to fuck off.
c) Hire you on the spot.

If you’ve been around looking for jobs, most likely you’ll pick (a), if not (b) – because nowadays, you can’t simply show up to whore yourself and expect people to hire you happily. You apply for a job, and get shortlisted before you can even get to speak to the fucking manager. So, it’s very likely you’d get escorted out by the security if you show up without an invitation..

Anyway, what happens if you do not have a track of records, or the required experience to fit the job? You will not get hired. Well, unless if you’re a hot girl and the manager’s a pervert but that’s beside the point. So what do you do after that? You can try harder. But if you fail for a number of times, circumstances will force you to go for a job with lower requirement, and of lesser importance. Even when you get hired to a job, you’d get a probation period before you’d get a permanent employment with full benefits. If you can’t perform up to the expectation, you’d be booted out. Basics of survival in the working world. Everyone goes through the same shit.

But what about our members of parliaments or state representatives? How do they get their job? For some strange fucking reasons, it doesn’t work that way for them. They get voted into office, and to get shortlisted, they’re nominated by someone you do not know in a political party. You do not know their qualifications. You do not know if they have experience. Hell, you do not know if they’re even fucking fit for the job. All you see, is their names when it is near the election date. You do not get to review a list of qualified applicants vying for the position, or get to shortlist the good ones. All they do, is convince you with words that they’re awesome for the job, and you should totally vote for them. When I wanted to vote, I see 4 – 5 names on the ballot paper, that I do not know. So I had to vote for the political party which I think is the most prospective one. Go figure.

Having said all that, can’t you see what I’m seeing? Isn’t this the same scenario as the example given above about whoring yourself in front of the engineering manager and hope you’d get hired? Sadly, it’s like that in the political world. Politicians whore themselves in front of us with merely words (and accusations). Most of them, have zero track records. Just names. And I’m expected to trust them with blind faith. It doesn’t work that way for me. That, my friend, is my qualm about democracy. It’s flawed.

And what if the person you’ve voted doesn’t win? You’ll have to deal with the nincompoop who got elected (whom you didn’t vote) for the next term and be content with him. !@#$%^&*()

In my world, I’d say, these people should prove themselves first. Much like a probation period. You want to be a wakil rakyat/MP? Do something that makes me happy or meets my needs. Repair some longkang. Patch some potholes. Do some flood mitigation project. Solve the crime problems in the neighborhood. Whatever. Just get a good track of records first. Then the party (or public) will review your performance and decide if you’re good to be shortlisted and subsequently, nominated as a candidate. You’ll be competing with the other assholes who are trying as hard to vie for the position, so it will be all good for the community. It will force you to be on the ground and get dirty with the people. You’ll be forced to gain the trusts through real work, not just some empty talk/promises. If you’re better than the others, you’d be voted into office and appointed as the representative in the state assembly (or parliament). If you fail, well, try harder. That’s what I call a real ‘meritocracy’ – at least in the world according to me.

Because we’re not like that – I reckon – we get all sorts of incompetent shitfucks running the government and equally useless simians populating the opposition parties. Just look at the headlines lately, some MCA / PCM dickheads ranting in the mainstream media that they’re withdrawing all support for the people because they’re not getting enough votes. (It should be the other way round you fucking idiots! People won’t vote for you if you can’t prove yourself useful!) I always like to say, voting for me is like given a choice to eat either a cockroach or a stinking bug. I just have to choose the one I dislike least. Why can’t we be given a choice of choosing someone really good? That’s because we do not have a check and balance for these people. It’s the system that failed us.

michaelooi  | thoughts  | Comments Off
May 8, 2013

dysfunctional family

I went for a lunch at a steamboat restaurant with my daughter and wife the other day, and there was this family of 4 sitting right next to our table. It was the worst lunch we had.

First, let me introduce the terrible family of 4 – the dad was fair porcine guy with thick specs, and the mom was a this short fat fucking bitch who had an ass so huge that it dimpled even her pants. With them, were 2 kids – boy aged about 6, and the girl about 2.

When we reached there, we initially thought we’re going to have a tough time putting up with 2 obnoxious kids next to our table (because, you know, they seem to fit the profile). But we couldn’t have been so wrong. It was the fucked up mother that was the worst. When she first saw us, she started by loudly exclaiming ‘Oh no, I hope the other patrons won’t mind sitting beside us because our table would be so noisy!’. I immediately knew that we’re in some kind of a trap, and avoided eye contact immediately… but my wife being a somewhat friendly person, did a grave mistake of smiling back at her. It was one of the many things she regretted in life.

It started after we sat down. The bitch started her drama by starting to talk to her kids in fake Queen’s English accent loudly – which got both her kids startled, because it was so strange seeing her mother suddenly being such a strange attention whore. When she figured that we weren’t interested, she would spontaneously break into an unprovoked cackle, and prod her husband for a reassuring response. Then she’d again look at us if we’re reacting in any way. At that time, Emily and I started to get really scared, and we were trying not to move too much – just like what people say about feigning dead when you’re near a rampaging bear. Regine on the other hand, was all pale and quiet because she was so fucking scared that the bitch might charge at us with a fork or something.

The wacko fat bitch would go on babbling non-stop loudly (her peripheral vision all the while trying to catch us paying her the attention she vied for), sometimes she’d yell at her kids for no reason at all and if not that, she’d suddenly preach them about science, tell them about English grammar and some other shit that didn’t fit in a restaurant. The husband would laugh retardedly at every single thing she said. The daughter would cry on and off (probably scared at her mad mother) and the boy would just behave like a spoilt fuck like dumping the utensils on the floor, and saucers into the pot of steamboat (because her mother’s nuts).

I was both scared and mad at the same time. The right thing to do, would have been to usher my wife and kid out of the view, before I shove the scorching hot electric steamboat up her dimpled ass and beat her to pulp with a ladle. Then I’m going to cook her kids and husband. But that could only remain a black and white thoughts of fantasy because we’re living a society that practices courtesy and we’re bound by the penal system. I wish I could do something about it but I couldn’t. So, I just hoovered my food with a straight face until the dysfunctional family finally left and only then we managed to properly eat our lunch in peace.

michaelooi  | experiences  | Comments Off
April 23, 2013

kids don’t give a shit

My daughter Regine was recently ‘threatened’ by a classmate of hers, apparently over a sticker exchange that didn’t go quite well. I’ll spare the details but it all started with that classmate, who demanded her stickers back after an exchange with my daughter. And when my daughter was unable to give it back (she’d lost it or given it to someone else), that classmate spun a ‘threat’ about wanting to get someone to whack Regine. Being a timid little turd (unlike me), Regine got piss scared and was unable to even eat her food during recess.

When my wife found out about the incident, she discussed it with me, and told me about her intention of wanting to talk some sense into that samseng girl, to which I opposed. My argument is, YOU SIMPLY CAN’T TALK SOME SENSE INTO A 7 YEAR OLD. If they have senses, they wouldn’t be watching shits like Barney or Barbie. I told my wife – If you talk to her, she’d just hear a bunch of bullshit and probably gonna nod or something, and then she’d go back to business as usual. How do I know that? Well, I was once like that samseng girl. I could imagine myself in her shoes.

It happened when I was also 7 years old (Standard 1). I was in a fight in the schoolbus I was in, with an Indian boy named ‘Xavier’, who’s 3 years my senior (Standard 4). Let’s just say, it didn’t go quite well for him. He ended up with some really nasty bruises, and a bite mark that scared his parents shitless (yes, I bit him. He tasted like curry). What happened next was hilarious. Xavier summoned his father to ‘talk some senses’ into me. You know what happened? I didn’t hear shit. All I remember was Xavier’s dad standing next to the schoolbus window (that I was hanging out next to) like a fucking idiot talking loudly to me, emotionally charged. The only thing I had in mind then, was how hard I am going to laugh at Xavier’s ass for being such a loser, and how much harder I am going to hurt him in the next fight. See my point? Kids don’t give a shit.

But I know, the situation would have been different if Xavier took it to the school and had me incarcerated. I’d be shitting in my pants (for some strange reasons, kids are scared of authorities). So, that’s why I suggested my wife to take it to the class teacher instead. That samseng girl will definitely pay some attention that way, and she will get monitored by that teacher. And if we’re really lucky, she might even shit her pants, and she’d think twice before messing with anyone again.

And Emily did just that. Too bad the samseng girl didn’t shit her pants. But I think I’m going to send my daughter to a Taekwon-do class that I’ve been wanting to. The time is ripe for her to stand up for herself. That incident could have been a great opportunity for her to put her skills to practice, but we missed the chance. We’ll take the next one.

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April 17, 2013

Lim Guan Eng

I’m sure most of you people have heard what they said about Lim Guan Eng, the current chief minister of Penang – that he’s cocky, arrogant, aggressive and acts like he’s a deity or some shit like that. You know what I think about that? I think it’s all cool. I mean, he’s a Chief Minister of a state for fuck’s sake. The ONLY Chinese Chief Minister in a predominantly Malay country. He has a bunch of corrupted shit fucks to control, who have been in the state government for years… rooted to the bedrock and hiding all kinds of shit. You know what does it take to control that kind of filth? An attitude as hard as a diamond and a deep resolute, with a little bit arrogance to the taste.

Ask any managers (or even higher ranked leaders) about this, and they would agree with me. It’s prerequisite even at a lower scale, eg. in an organisation within a company. You have to be tough to be at the top position. You know what happens when you’re not tough enough? You’ll get people walk all over you and you’re not going to get your shit together. Just look at the previous Chief Minister of Penang (who is now an epitome of cowardice – even garnered enough fame to have a breed of seedless durian named after him – an allegory of not having ‘balls’).

And also, what’s with the paranoia about Lim Guan Eng having a mistress? So what if he has a mistress? Ask yourself, do you mind what your boss does after the office hours? Does it affect you and your job? Doesn’t fucking make any sense at all. If his morality is at stake, then why are we ok with that Chua Soi Lek – who has a 30 min long video of him porking and howling – running a vernacular political party (representing us Chinese, fucking hell) and going around giving his opinions like it matters? And what do you guys make of the incident of Lim Guan Eng protecting the innocence of a child whom he didn’t know, and had to go to prison for that? If I were to judge him by his acts of morality, I’d say he still has a few hundreds of mistresses to go before I’d *even* consider him a crook. Yes, that is how high he is in my respect book. Going to jail for some whipper snapper he doesn’t even know, that takes a lot of courage. He has a pair of balls bigger than all the men in Penang combined, and he has my respect for that. (I can’t name anyone else in the country who’d get that kind of respect from me.)

So, instead of instilling rancor to that tough image of this guy, shouldn’t we all be fucking glad that we have a badass CM running the government? Fuck yeah for me. I’m going to fucking vote for him if given the chance.

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April 11, 2013

year of a rat

Regine, my beloved 6.5 years old daughter… takes after me.

Regine: “Daddy, do we have the year of a mouse?”

Me: “No, but we have the year of a rat. Why?”

Regine: “Hmmm, I have a friend who looks like a rat”

Me: “So you think she might be born in the year of a rat? Because she looks like a rat?”

Regine: “Yes.”

Me: “Well, she might be.”

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