Election, At Last

 

So I was wrong. There's going to be an election after all. And it's next month, not in 2019. From now until the election day, our caring PM is also a caretaker PM. He's about half-way into proclaiming the dissolution of the parliament when the mainstream media (meaning Utusan Malaysia) and the alternative media (also Utusan Malaysia) went into orgasmic overdrive, declaring that Selangor and Sabah will soon be part of Malaysia. Who can blame them. They've been waiting for this moment since 2008, the last election. You won't find a country more captivated and consumed in election fever. That Malaysia and Malaria rhyme so well is no coincidence. Nothing is done without a stench of electioneering. Kelantan will transform from poor to very poor now that politics has overtaken batik as the biggest cottage industry. Believe it or not, this is the 13th general election, and our election process has been massively transformed. With the use of the ink, we're now on par with Iraq and well ahead of the Ivory Coast.

If you watch only TV3, you'd be led to believe that it's going to be a cakewalk for BN because if BN candidates lose, BN-friendly candidates will win. But if you add up all the cash bonanza, it looks tighter than Barca vs Real. With sentiments so finely balanced, there's all to play for. Thanks to EC and EC bashers, election will be more fun. They're doing away with nomination protests. This will allow candidates who can't spell their names to still contest, campaign and run down their opponents. Of course, we need more tweaks if we're really serious about benchmarking against election dreamlands like New Zealand, Denmark etc.

A 94-year grandmother is contesting to protect polygamy. Problem is, there's no age limit in Malaysia, unlike North Korea, where there's restriction on age and everything else. Horny granny aside, the sight of an 80-something icon and firebrand being towed around on the campaign trail is hard to stomach. I know about some US judges and senators who retired after 90 and how they appointed George Bush, legalized Elton John's marriage and reinstated slavery. I always believe that a physically weak leader (political or spiritual) is intellectually suspect. No, I'm not calling for a candidate who runs Boston marathon. But a candidate who can at least walk without help, think clearly and talk in plain Malay language without the need for Malay subtitles.  


It's well-documented that opposition parties either don't get enough airtime or don't get airtime. I've no problem with this because all the TV and radio stations belong to either the government or businessmen scared of the government. Fair enough. People have to eat. But why not make it official, I mean legislate a law, or even amend the constitution, to disallow opposition parties from using TV and radio. With the law, anybody even remotely related to the opposition can't be seen within 10 km of any TV or radio station. Draconian, yes, but it's a rule or law that's understood by everybody, just like running red lights or the advantage rule in football. With this simple regulation, nobody will complain, certainly not the ruling party.

This election is already spinning into a melee of manifestos. This is, of course, a sign of political maturity. And mockery. One manifesto contains 120 vague pledges or promises, and each promise has another 120 vague sub-promises with even more vague-vague sub-sub-promises, with suspicious words like kroni, sisipan, mapan, iltizam thrown in to confuse and upset the average readers like you. When you're just about to get the hang of the whole thing, another 100 additional vague promises are added. This is Suarez-style daylight trickery. Why not limit any manifesto to just one page and ten promises max using basic numbers and clear language like tidur, nasi, ayam, hutang, sekolah, mydin, astro. This way it's easier to determine which party might bankrupt the country faster.


In every election, single mothers and artistes are singled out for goodies. This election they get even more. I'm a Petronas retiree and technically not an artiste, so I don't get anything even though Petronas and I have paid billions of ringgit in income tax. I'd propose that  all Petronas retirees be reclassified as artistes, or even single mothers for all I care. This way, I'll get to share the goodies. Grocery discounts, insurance, free medical, low-cost real estate, subsidized TV serials, low-quality TV serials, you name it. But how can a Petronas retiree be deemed an artiste or single mother? Easy. Look up the law. Pull up any contract or agreement and read: male gender is female gender, plural also means singular. A court in Canada even ruled that a horse is indeed a bird. So why can't a Petronas retiree be an artiste or a single mother?

If I want to vote, I'll have travel to Kg Pandan to vote. I lived in the area in the early 80s, and I haven't changed my polling address. One candidate there is an ex-Petronas. We've never met but I heard he's a rising star, a Senior Manager at the age of 27, a chartered accountant of England and Wales, an engineer, an MCKK old boy. Breathtaking. Can you be more educated than that? At this rate, he should become a GM at 30, VP at 35, and burn out at 39. Somehow he decided to quit and write a clever farewell missive, and went on to become a political mastermind or something and, once again, a rising star. Since his widely celebrated revelation of financial/comical scandals and skullduggery in high places, political attack dogs have made valiant attempts to frame his "actual" reasons for leaving Petronas. I think there's nothing sinister. He just didn't want to be a Petronas VP, that's all.