Dear friends,
Sorry I haven't been updating the blog as frequently as before. I do have some exciting news to report! The good folks at Marshall Cavendish has secured a date for a Press Conference/ Book Launch for The Twisted Stethoscope.
Venue : Irish Embassy
Date: 16th June
Time : 11.00am
VIP : Irish Ambassador, Mr. Eugene Hutchinson
For the past few days things have been moving fast. Recently I have managed to personally hand over a copy to the Deputy Health Minister, Datuk Dr. Hj. Abdul Latif b. Ahmad . He seemed rather please with it! Also, efforts are being made to post a copy to the Director General of Health, YB Tan Sri Dr. Ismail Merican, (who I emailed last week) as well as the Deputy Minister of Higher Education.
The President of Penang Medical College, Mr. Brendan Lyons has also been very helpful. He is trying to send two copies of the book to newspapers in Ireland. Hopefully, this will be the start of sales in Dublin, my second home for two years.Oh, how the heart aches...
Special thanks goes to: Christine, Leowania, Cassy,Suhana,Jin Jin and Mr. Brendan!
Most importantly : to all you guys for expressing your support. Keep reading this blog, I promise a new post tommorow!
-Jason Leong
Friday, June 6, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Why I don't drive well.
Many people have asked me, “Jason, why does your driving skill suck so much?” Here’s the answer. -My dad was a real badass. Of course I don’t mean ‘badass’ as in kill babies and burn down churches kind of ‘badass’. The ‘badass’ persona that my father possessed was even more terrifying. When he cracked the whip around the house, entire continents would shift, creating massive earthquakes. And I am not using ‘crack the whip’ as a figure of speech. My dad uses the whip with such force that cracks appear on the whip itself.
One of the more fiery elements in our loving father and son relationship was The Car. Oh yes, it was The Car. Sure, it was just a Proton Waja but at that time I was at a tender age of 18, armed and ready with freshly bribed driver’s license and the need for speed. When he did hand over the car keys, his expression was similar to a mother who had just given birth and now handing over her baby to a paedophilic gangster .
But the exhilarating feeling of an engine at the command of my deft manual gear-shifting skills and my foot on the accelerator pedal was second to none. Under my expert guidance, our Proton Waja becomes a Ferrari, zooming down highways with rock music blaring, adrenaline pumping all ove-
RRRRRRINGGGGGG! , screamed my handphone.
I glanced at the screen, while at the very extreme end of my vision, I keep an eye on the road. The screen says “Daddy is Calling”.
Immediately my bowels suddenly became very nervous and out of nowhere, my bladder threatened to give up. I’ve been out driving the car too long! I should have been home by 10. 00pm! A quick glance revealed the time to be …. 1. 00am, which is probably the last time on Earth I get to see 1. 00am.
With an immense sense of trepidation and impending bladder failure, I answer the call. “WHERE ARE YOU?!”, boomed an otherworldly voice. In the background, I can vaguely hear the sounds of weeping and gnashing of teeth. “I er…ah…gulp…I am on the Federal High-“
“ON THE FEDERAL HIGHWAY? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”
At the back of my mind, I begin to worry slightly that my father, having dialed my number, failed to recognize that I am his son. “Er…ah I was just about to come home”, I said, while grimacing and contorting my face, the key step to keep my nervous bowels from exploding.
“YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN HOME 3 HOURS AGO! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU NOW?”. By now I could clearly discern the distinct sound of a shotgun being reloaded. “Er…I ah…. I am just passing by Mid Valley Megamall now. I will be home as soon as-“
“I GIVE YOU 10 MINUTES TO COME HOME. NOW!”
Upon the call having ended, I immediately press the pedal to the metal, hoping to get home within the stipulated time, pushing The Car to speeds unheard off in mankind. Oh please, anything but the shotgun. I reached home within 9 minutes. At the entrance of the house stood my dad, tall, muscular and brandishing a cracked whip in one hand, a fully loaded shotgun in the other. “I …huff…huff…made it home…huff…in time…-“
This time the volume was not threatening to the ear-drum, the bass had lessened.
“Yes you came home in time. From Mid Valley Megamall, yes?”
“Yes “, said I, not recognizing at all the signs that I had just fell into a craftily set trap.
“Are you telling me you got home from Mid Valley Megamall, a place almost 30 kilometres away in 9 minutes? That you were driving at 180km/h? HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO SPEED?”.
From that day forth, when I drive, my butt never touches the car seat due to permanent tenderness. I just hang my upper body by the sheer strength of my arms clinging on the steering wheel.
One of the more fiery elements in our loving father and son relationship was The Car. Oh yes, it was The Car. Sure, it was just a Proton Waja but at that time I was at a tender age of 18, armed and ready with freshly bribed driver’s license and the need for speed. When he did hand over the car keys, his expression was similar to a mother who had just given birth and now handing over her baby to a paedophilic gangster .
But the exhilarating feeling of an engine at the command of my deft manual gear-shifting skills and my foot on the accelerator pedal was second to none. Under my expert guidance, our Proton Waja becomes a Ferrari, zooming down highways with rock music blaring, adrenaline pumping all ove-
RRRRRRINGGGGGG! , screamed my handphone.
I glanced at the screen, while at the very extreme end of my vision, I keep an eye on the road. The screen says “Daddy is Calling”.
Immediately my bowels suddenly became very nervous and out of nowhere, my bladder threatened to give up. I’ve been out driving the car too long! I should have been home by 10. 00pm! A quick glance revealed the time to be …. 1. 00am, which is probably the last time on Earth I get to see 1. 00am.
With an immense sense of trepidation and impending bladder failure, I answer the call. “WHERE ARE YOU?!”, boomed an otherworldly voice. In the background, I can vaguely hear the sounds of weeping and gnashing of teeth. “I er…ah…gulp…I am on the Federal High-“
“ON THE FEDERAL HIGHWAY? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”
At the back of my mind, I begin to worry slightly that my father, having dialed my number, failed to recognize that I am his son. “Er…ah I was just about to come home”, I said, while grimacing and contorting my face, the key step to keep my nervous bowels from exploding.
“YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN HOME 3 HOURS AGO! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU NOW?”. By now I could clearly discern the distinct sound of a shotgun being reloaded. “Er…I ah…. I am just passing by Mid Valley Megamall now. I will be home as soon as-“
“I GIVE YOU 10 MINUTES TO COME HOME. NOW!”
Upon the call having ended, I immediately press the pedal to the metal, hoping to get home within the stipulated time, pushing The Car to speeds unheard off in mankind. Oh please, anything but the shotgun. I reached home within 9 minutes. At the entrance of the house stood my dad, tall, muscular and brandishing a cracked whip in one hand, a fully loaded shotgun in the other. “I …huff…huff…made it home…huff…in time…-“
This time the volume was not threatening to the ear-drum, the bass had lessened.
“Yes you came home in time. From Mid Valley Megamall, yes?”
“Yes “, said I, not recognizing at all the signs that I had just fell into a craftily set trap.
“Are you telling me you got home from Mid Valley Megamall, a place almost 30 kilometres away in 9 minutes? That you were driving at 180km/h? HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO SPEED?”.
From that day forth, when I drive, my butt never touches the car seat due to permanent tenderness. I just hang my upper body by the sheer strength of my arms clinging on the steering wheel.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Identify Yourselves!
Dear fans and friends,
Thank you for your continuing support for this blog.The fact that there are people who continue to visit this blog and spread the word around has inspired me to keep on blogging, even though I am now in a rather hectic rotation, Obstetrics and Gynaecology.Of course, I may not be able to update it as often, but will still keep this blog a viable and entertaining outlet for all.
Anyway,I would like to just quickly shout out to all the regular visitors a big big thanks!Without you, this would be just like me talking to a wall,but less costly because no need to pay for Internet and electricity.
What I would like is to for you guys to just intro yourselves by posting in the comments section of this post and let us know 4 things.
a) Who are you?
b) What are you studying and at which institution?
c) What do you think can be improved in this blog?
d) How much cash will you personally donate to me so that I can have more money?
I have been checking out the statistics of this blog and realize that there are loads of you guys from Australia who check out this site, as well as the USA. I also wonder who are the people from Russia and Papua New Guinea?Identify yourselves please!
Cheers all, another post is coming soon!
Jason Leong,
The Man.
Thank you for your continuing support for this blog.The fact that there are people who continue to visit this blog and spread the word around has inspired me to keep on blogging, even though I am now in a rather hectic rotation, Obstetrics and Gynaecology.Of course, I may not be able to update it as often, but will still keep this blog a viable and entertaining outlet for all.
Anyway,I would like to just quickly shout out to all the regular visitors a big big thanks!Without you, this would be just like me talking to a wall,but less costly because no need to pay for Internet and electricity.
What I would like is to for you guys to just intro yourselves by posting in the comments section of this post and let us know 4 things.
a) Who are you?
b) What are you studying and at which institution?
c) What do you think can be improved in this blog?
d) How much cash will you personally donate to me so that I can have more money?
I have been checking out the statistics of this blog and realize that there are loads of you guys from Australia who check out this site, as well as the USA. I also wonder who are the people from Russia and Papua New Guinea?Identify yourselves please!
Cheers all, another post is coming soon!
Jason Leong,
The Man.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Civilian Defense ( Part 2)
The hail of durians will probably be enough to drive back half the invading force. In an ideal situation, if we have infinite amount of durians and infinite amount of expendable durian-throwers, we could literally repel all attackers and even conquer a few countries of our own. But alas, we cannot afford to waste too many durians.
And so the invading force moves forward, encroaching on our turf. At this point, we stay patient and bide our time, as their tanks roll over the grassy knolls and hills and quickly acquire the quickest route to the capital. As any military strategist will tell you, an invading army will first endeavour to choke out the target by cutting all lines of communication and transport. This can be achieved by controlling all roads and highways that lead to the capital.
But that strategy will not work in Malaysia. Within 5 minutes of the tanks rolling down our highways, they will hear a peculiar noise coming from behind. Curious, they look behind and what do they see?A typical Malaysian driver in his heavily modified Proton Wira, honking at the tank furiously for going so slow on the fast lane of the highway. According to the Law of Typical Acquaintances, everyone knows at least one person who acts like this on the highways. Everyone has that imbecile of a friend who tells tales of driving from Ipoh to Shanghai in less than 45 minutes, reaching speeds up to 160 kilometres per nanosecond. If you don’t know a person that fits that description, then according to The Law, you are that person .
Back to the highway. The person in the car is thinking, who do they think they are?You wanna invade my country?Do it at your own time!I have places to go and things to do!Now please move to the left and let me through! HONK! HONK!
At this point, the tank commander will be in a dilemma. This civilian obviously deserves to be blasted to the sky, but by employing the Malaysian 2-cm Tailgate technique, the car’s front bumper is precisely 2cm behind the tank, and thus putting it at a weird distance, which is too near for the tank effectively fire at it. And so, the commander, after many years of blasting shit into oblivion, moves meekly to the the slow lane of the highway, and allows the Malaysian to pass. I know what you’re thinking. Never even bother to put the signal.
And so, the tank commander then initiates the targeting system to lock on to the car that is now gaining speed and about accelerate into oblivion, with the driver already giving the one-fingered salute. The commander, calling upon years of experience, punches in the correct sequence of buttons and waits for the car to be directly in front. And after a few milliseconds, the car is now at the prime position to be turned into charcoal. The tank driver, his finger already on the FIRE button, wet with perspiration (for it is BLOODY hot in Malaysia) feels the adrenaline surge into his body and then –
BOOM!The tank is smashed into the highway divider by a speeding Mercedes, the driver pissed off that a bloody Proton Wira had the audacity to overtake him 5 kilometres previously. The Mercedes driver at this point has one goal in mind. To drive up next to the Proton Wira, place his Mercedes side by side, stare at the Wira driver and then speed off, leaving the Wira in a trail of dust and smoke, because you only overtake a Mercedes if you are driving a car of similar- if not greater- caliber and class.
That particular incident will happen along the entire stretch of all highways. One by one, the tanks will be crushed on our highways of death. By now, we can safely assume the morale of the enemy has dropped to a significant low, like the ratings of Malaysia Idol and the careers of the winners. And even if, and this if a big IF here, if the enemy still has the guts to pursue on, we have one final defensive mechanism to fall back on.
Let’s imagine that a ragtag army of enemy transport vehicles has safely made it through the highways and are now in Kuala Lumpur. They are by now super pissed off and ready to absolutely liberate the shit out of Kuala Lumpur. Guns loaded and missiles ready at the launch, they head for several key buildings to cripple the capital, like the Twin Towers, Bank Negara, Tenaga Nasional Berhad headquarters, Mid Valley Megamall and if they are really cruel, several crucial mamak stalls.
But they will never get there.
There are several impenetrable forces known to mankind. In Star Trek, we have electromagnetic force fields through which nothing can penetrate. In sport, we have Arsenal’s defence line. Sometimes. In popular culture, we have Tom Cruise’s ego.
In Kuala Lumpur, we have traffic jams.
Nothing can get pass a KL traffic jam. You may try, but you will fail. My father is at of this moment, stuck in a traffic jam on Jalan Tun Dr. Ismail. He started his journey at precisely 8. 30am, 20th February, 2002. The origin of traffic jams can be traced to something called ‘Construction Works’ along strategic areas of KL. No one knows the purpose of this mysterious works. They involve Bangladeshi men with yellow helmets, big tractors and a LOT of cement. No work is ever actively done with the objective of actually physically CONSTRUCTING anything.
Periodically, they will dig a hole in the ground, and they will stare at it. After many hours of staring, they then decide the hole is somehow not suitable. They fill it up, and then dig another hole of similar size and shape next to the previous hole. Again, they stare at it. Once in a while, they will bring out from their trucks brightly coloured traffic cones. They will arrange the cones at random around them, to cordon off a HUGE space around them with which they can stare at holes in comfort. One or two persons will be holding up a large piece of blank paper and stare thoughtfully at it. This will go on FOREVER.
And so my friends, know the signs of an ongoing invasion in our country. Our army may choose not to tell us for fear of public panic (or because international calls from the Phillipines are expensive), but we the educated people of Malaysia know better. Look out for durian shortages, the sudden disappearance of out football team (yes we have a football team), an odd number of Mercedes cars with lightly scratched front bumpers and most importantly, look out for my father and tell him that his family misses him.
And so the invading force moves forward, encroaching on our turf. At this point, we stay patient and bide our time, as their tanks roll over the grassy knolls and hills and quickly acquire the quickest route to the capital. As any military strategist will tell you, an invading army will first endeavour to choke out the target by cutting all lines of communication and transport. This can be achieved by controlling all roads and highways that lead to the capital.
But that strategy will not work in Malaysia. Within 5 minutes of the tanks rolling down our highways, they will hear a peculiar noise coming from behind. Curious, they look behind and what do they see?A typical Malaysian driver in his heavily modified Proton Wira, honking at the tank furiously for going so slow on the fast lane of the highway. According to the Law of Typical Acquaintances, everyone knows at least one person who acts like this on the highways. Everyone has that imbecile of a friend who tells tales of driving from Ipoh to Shanghai in less than 45 minutes, reaching speeds up to 160 kilometres per nanosecond. If you don’t know a person that fits that description, then according to The Law, you are that person .
Back to the highway. The person in the car is thinking, who do they think they are?You wanna invade my country?Do it at your own time!I have places to go and things to do!Now please move to the left and let me through! HONK! HONK!
At this point, the tank commander will be in a dilemma. This civilian obviously deserves to be blasted to the sky, but by employing the Malaysian 2-cm Tailgate technique, the car’s front bumper is precisely 2cm behind the tank, and thus putting it at a weird distance, which is too near for the tank effectively fire at it. And so, the commander, after many years of blasting shit into oblivion, moves meekly to the the slow lane of the highway, and allows the Malaysian to pass. I know what you’re thinking. Never even bother to put the signal.
And so, the tank commander then initiates the targeting system to lock on to the car that is now gaining speed and about accelerate into oblivion, with the driver already giving the one-fingered salute. The commander, calling upon years of experience, punches in the correct sequence of buttons and waits for the car to be directly in front. And after a few milliseconds, the car is now at the prime position to be turned into charcoal. The tank driver, his finger already on the FIRE button, wet with perspiration (for it is BLOODY hot in Malaysia) feels the adrenaline surge into his body and then –
BOOM!The tank is smashed into the highway divider by a speeding Mercedes, the driver pissed off that a bloody Proton Wira had the audacity to overtake him 5 kilometres previously. The Mercedes driver at this point has one goal in mind. To drive up next to the Proton Wira, place his Mercedes side by side, stare at the Wira driver and then speed off, leaving the Wira in a trail of dust and smoke, because you only overtake a Mercedes if you are driving a car of similar- if not greater- caliber and class.
That particular incident will happen along the entire stretch of all highways. One by one, the tanks will be crushed on our highways of death. By now, we can safely assume the morale of the enemy has dropped to a significant low, like the ratings of Malaysia Idol and the careers of the winners. And even if, and this if a big IF here, if the enemy still has the guts to pursue on, we have one final defensive mechanism to fall back on.
Let’s imagine that a ragtag army of enemy transport vehicles has safely made it through the highways and are now in Kuala Lumpur. They are by now super pissed off and ready to absolutely liberate the shit out of Kuala Lumpur. Guns loaded and missiles ready at the launch, they head for several key buildings to cripple the capital, like the Twin Towers, Bank Negara, Tenaga Nasional Berhad headquarters, Mid Valley Megamall and if they are really cruel, several crucial mamak stalls.
But they will never get there.
There are several impenetrable forces known to mankind. In Star Trek, we have electromagnetic force fields through which nothing can penetrate. In sport, we have Arsenal’s defence line. Sometimes. In popular culture, we have Tom Cruise’s ego.
In Kuala Lumpur, we have traffic jams.
Nothing can get pass a KL traffic jam. You may try, but you will fail. My father is at of this moment, stuck in a traffic jam on Jalan Tun Dr. Ismail. He started his journey at precisely 8. 30am, 20th February, 2002. The origin of traffic jams can be traced to something called ‘Construction Works’ along strategic areas of KL. No one knows the purpose of this mysterious works. They involve Bangladeshi men with yellow helmets, big tractors and a LOT of cement. No work is ever actively done with the objective of actually physically CONSTRUCTING anything.
Periodically, they will dig a hole in the ground, and they will stare at it. After many hours of staring, they then decide the hole is somehow not suitable. They fill it up, and then dig another hole of similar size and shape next to the previous hole. Again, they stare at it. Once in a while, they will bring out from their trucks brightly coloured traffic cones. They will arrange the cones at random around them, to cordon off a HUGE space around them with which they can stare at holes in comfort. One or two persons will be holding up a large piece of blank paper and stare thoughtfully at it. This will go on FOREVER.
And so my friends, know the signs of an ongoing invasion in our country. Our army may choose not to tell us for fear of public panic (or because international calls from the Phillipines are expensive), but we the educated people of Malaysia know better. Look out for durian shortages, the sudden disappearance of out football team (yes we have a football team), an odd number of Mercedes cars with lightly scratched front bumpers and most importantly, look out for my father and tell him that his family misses him.
Civilian Defense ( Part 1)
We are living in turbulent times now. The human depravity, the violence, the civil wars. And that’s just the queue at a Ramley Burger stall. We are at the apex of our civilization, and yet, there is a tangible sense of global doom that permeates the air. As I look around at the global devastation, I start to wonder.
“What if Malaysia is attacked?”
Firstly we must rest in the peace of mind knowing that Malaysia is already a difficult country to invade by virtue of the fact that it’s hard to locate. Malaysia is like a the secret level or the hidden power-up mushroom in a Super Mario Bros. game. You can only get to it by stumbling upon it. NO ONE knows where Malaysia is, despite valiant efforts by our government to educate the world. We have tried everything. Hosting the Commonwealth Games, building an F1-level track circuit, dropping the Proton Wira in the North Pole, getting a Malaysian to sail by himself halfway around the world, etc etc. But yet, people don’t know where Malaysia is. The Government’s efforts have been for naught.
Some might say , “We’ve tried everything. What to do, they are ignorant”. But to me, this is not constructive criticism. I feel that instead of spending billions of ringgit building infrastructures and hosting sporting events we can’t win, we should be more direct and erect billboards in all major capitals of the world. The billboards will show an appropriately labeled map of South-East Asia, with the countries surrounding Malaysia coloured in green, while Malaysia itself is coloured in neon pink. Each country should be labeled with clear, block letters except Malaysia, which will have a HUGE orange arrow pointing to it with the words ‘THIS IS M A LA Y S I A’. This method saves money and time because the moment foreign people read the billboards, they not only know immediately where Malaysia is, but they will also think , “Where the hell is South East Asia?”.
Imagine the conversation between top army officials on the eve of their attack on Malaysia.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Are we ready to attack Malaysia?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Yes. The men are ready. The vehicles and artillery are
ready. This invasion should take no longer than 2 days.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Good job. How long will it take to move our troops there?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : There?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Yeah. There. Malaysia
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Uh, I thought you handled that.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Me?I don’t bloody know where Malaysia is!
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Hell I don’t either!Shit, this could be a logistic problem. You
sure you have no idea?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : No sir.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Alright, to be sure, let’s check the computer
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Okay. . the computer says that West Malaysia is a peninsula
situated between Singapore and Thailand.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Wait…west?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Yeah, the East of Malaysia is situated below the
Phillipines, and it shares borders with Brunei and Indonesia.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : What in the name…?There’s two Malaysias?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Yeah…separated by the South China Sea
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : So Malaysia is near China then?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Not quite actually. The South China Sea is to the immediate
south of Thailand, Myanmar and Cambodia.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Alright, enough with this crap. We can’t allow unimportant
details like geography to hinder the destructi…liberation of
Malaysia. Tommorow, we attack both East and West. And to be safe, let’s take out Cambodia, Myanmar, Indonesia,
Bruneiand the South China Sea.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : And what about Thailand?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Leave it. End of year vacation.
Thus, the confusion among the ranks on the exact location of their target will send at least half the invading forces to nearby Australia and Hong Kong. But that still leaves us with the other half. But again, rest assured for we have our natural resources to rely on. Imagine now, the invading army on the horizon, marching on the horizon, guns at the ready. This is how we Malaysians respond : -
We gather a thousand or so expendable people. By ‘expendable’ I mean people who have not played a significant role in Malaysia’s progress, and hence, will not be missed, for example, national football players, Proton engineers, students in Business and History, Ah Bengs and of course, Fauziah Latiff. We get them to charge madly across the battlefield, scream in fury, and maybe yell out a battlecry or two, some good examples are “ YEARGHHHHHH!!!” and “ARGHHHHHHH!!”(Fauziah Latiff may have some pitching problems with this). But here’s the secret. We give each person a weapon. A weapon of incredible power and destruction.
A durian.
Have you ever seen a Mat Salleh react to a durian?It’s like putting two reactive chemicals together on a small metal plate and heating them up with a nuclear bomb. The moment the Mat Salleh sees the durian his face will immediately turn into a shade of green rivaling that of the durian itself, which will then followed by fainting, convulsions, coma and death. This is if he doesn’t choke on the pungent smell. Many moons ago, and I swear this is true, an episode of Fear Factor featured the durian as the second stunt. The second stunt, as many of you not living in Shah Alam know, is considered the Gross Stunt, where usually contestants have to eat gross stuff like cockroaches, intestines, maggots, penises, live worms, brains, eyeballs, fish eggs, wow are you still reading this?, century eggs, tables, chairs, babies, small children, etc etc.
I for one cannot fathom the absurdity of placing the durian as a gross item for indulgence. For us Malaysians, it is a delicacy for crying out loud!It’s literally marked on our calendars as a day of reverence and importance as we savour the King of Fruits.
And so that’s our first line of defence, opening up durians and throwing them towards the enemy soldiers. The combination of the thorns, yellowy goo and the smell will make any enemy think twice of invading.
to be continued....
“What if Malaysia is attacked?”
Firstly we must rest in the peace of mind knowing that Malaysia is already a difficult country to invade by virtue of the fact that it’s hard to locate. Malaysia is like a the secret level or the hidden power-up mushroom in a Super Mario Bros. game. You can only get to it by stumbling upon it. NO ONE knows where Malaysia is, despite valiant efforts by our government to educate the world. We have tried everything. Hosting the Commonwealth Games, building an F1-level track circuit, dropping the Proton Wira in the North Pole, getting a Malaysian to sail by himself halfway around the world, etc etc. But yet, people don’t know where Malaysia is. The Government’s efforts have been for naught.
Some might say , “We’ve tried everything. What to do, they are ignorant”. But to me, this is not constructive criticism. I feel that instead of spending billions of ringgit building infrastructures and hosting sporting events we can’t win, we should be more direct and erect billboards in all major capitals of the world. The billboards will show an appropriately labeled map of South-East Asia, with the countries surrounding Malaysia coloured in green, while Malaysia itself is coloured in neon pink. Each country should be labeled with clear, block letters except Malaysia, which will have a HUGE orange arrow pointing to it with the words ‘THIS IS M A LA Y S I A’. This method saves money and time because the moment foreign people read the billboards, they not only know immediately where Malaysia is, but they will also think , “Where the hell is South East Asia?”.
Imagine the conversation between top army officials on the eve of their attack on Malaysia.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Are we ready to attack Malaysia?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Yes. The men are ready. The vehicles and artillery are
ready. This invasion should take no longer than 2 days.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Good job. How long will it take to move our troops there?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : There?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Yeah. There. Malaysia
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Uh, I thought you handled that.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Me?I don’t bloody know where Malaysia is!
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Hell I don’t either!Shit, this could be a logistic problem. You
sure you have no idea?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : No sir.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Alright, to be sure, let’s check the computer
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Okay. . the computer says that West Malaysia is a peninsula
situated between Singapore and Thailand.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Wait…west?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Yeah, the East of Malaysia is situated below the
Phillipines, and it shares borders with Brunei and Indonesia.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : What in the name…?There’s two Malaysias?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Yeah…separated by the South China Sea
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : So Malaysia is near China then?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : Not quite actually. The South China Sea is to the immediate
south of Thailand, Myanmar and Cambodia.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Alright, enough with this crap. We can’t allow unimportant
details like geography to hinder the destructi…liberation of
Malaysia. Tommorow, we attack both East and West. And to be safe, let’s take out Cambodia, Myanmar, Indonesia,
Bruneiand the South China Sea.
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 1 : And what about Thailand?
TOP ARMY OFFICIAL 2 : Leave it. End of year vacation.
Thus, the confusion among the ranks on the exact location of their target will send at least half the invading forces to nearby Australia and Hong Kong. But that still leaves us with the other half. But again, rest assured for we have our natural resources to rely on. Imagine now, the invading army on the horizon, marching on the horizon, guns at the ready. This is how we Malaysians respond : -
We gather a thousand or so expendable people. By ‘expendable’ I mean people who have not played a significant role in Malaysia’s progress, and hence, will not be missed, for example, national football players, Proton engineers, students in Business and History, Ah Bengs and of course, Fauziah Latiff. We get them to charge madly across the battlefield, scream in fury, and maybe yell out a battlecry or two, some good examples are “ YEARGHHHHHH!!!” and “ARGHHHHHHH!!”(Fauziah Latiff may have some pitching problems with this). But here’s the secret. We give each person a weapon. A weapon of incredible power and destruction.
A durian.
Have you ever seen a Mat Salleh react to a durian?It’s like putting two reactive chemicals together on a small metal plate and heating them up with a nuclear bomb. The moment the Mat Salleh sees the durian his face will immediately turn into a shade of green rivaling that of the durian itself, which will then followed by fainting, convulsions, coma and death. This is if he doesn’t choke on the pungent smell. Many moons ago, and I swear this is true, an episode of Fear Factor featured the durian as the second stunt. The second stunt, as many of you not living in Shah Alam know, is considered the Gross Stunt, where usually contestants have to eat gross stuff like cockroaches, intestines, maggots, penises, live worms, brains, eyeballs, fish eggs, wow are you still reading this?, century eggs, tables, chairs, babies, small children, etc etc.
I for one cannot fathom the absurdity of placing the durian as a gross item for indulgence. For us Malaysians, it is a delicacy for crying out loud!It’s literally marked on our calendars as a day of reverence and importance as we savour the King of Fruits.
And so that’s our first line of defence, opening up durians and throwing them towards the enemy soldiers. The combination of the thorns, yellowy goo and the smell will make any enemy think twice of invading.
to be continued....
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Chinese People
Nowadays everyone is abuzz with current affairs.Everyone is well read, and up to date. Me? Not so much. Because I don’t have enough money to buy newspapers and when I am online, the only ‘news’ I get are from political blogs written by brave,daring individuals.So my understanding of current affairs in Malaysia usually comprises of unsubstantiated rumours written with emotion and bias.
And my understanding of world events are even worse. I feel very nervous when people asked me, “Hey have you heard of so and so who did such and such at ….”, because my general knowledge is so poor. But over the years I have come up with 2 ‘safety sentences’ which are guaranteed to keep the conversation flowing and more importantly, make me look like a knowledgeable person.
The first one is : “Yeah, trouble in the Middle East again. What we really need is someone brave enough to take a stance, and get the parties involved talking again.That’s how the peace process can resume”
Now of course, that sentence means absolutely nothing to me.Where the hell is this so-called "Middle East" anyway? Somewhere in Perak? But because I have heard it mentioned in the news so many times, and always involving violence and people refusing to negotiate, when I just utter those few sentences, invariably people will agree with me.Brilliant
The second one is : Yeah, China is in a diplomatic mess again.”
This one works because China is ALWAYS in some sort of diplomatic mess. Tibet, Olympic Games, Communist regime, stealing secrets from the US, they are always in the news, and usually in a very controversial position.
The thing about China is that US is afraid of their progress. 45 year old and above man I know has told me the same story, “Hey, China is going to take over the world you know!”, in a tone that suggests that at one time or another, they were King of The World and their knowledge of current events is first class.
I don’t think China is going to take over anything anytime soon. And there are two reasons : -
1) Most of them can’t speak English
If you can’t speak English properly, then your video message that will be sent all over the world proclaiming your dominance over Earth won’t be impressive. And the whole mystique of controlling the entire world will be gone if it is spelt out with subtitles on the bottom of the screen.
2) Chinese people like to gamble.
This love for gambling has been embedded in the genes of every Chinese born. It has been foretold long ago in the heavens when the Earth was made that ‘Damnit, you Chinese shall go forth and gamble”. I shudder to think of the Fate of our world when they negotiate trade deals and declarations of war by inviting the other countries to participate in a friendly, yet highly tensed game of Mah Jong, or Cho Tai Ti.
More of interest to us though, is the way they gamble. I don’t care if you are a professor, Nobel prize winner, MENSA president, etc, if you are Chinese, the moment you gamble, all your intelligence, education and logic goes out the window.
You see, at the gambling table, Chinese people don’t believe in luck. Luck is for losers. Every Chinese person at the gambling table believes that how much money they win is determined by their own hands, and quite literally. Here’s a normal setup for a gambling session :-
A Chinese man is invited for a game of blackjack. After all, it’s a few more weeks to CNY, so best to get some practice in. Real money is involved of course. So the man sits at the gambling table. Now, at this precise moment where he is physically seated and staring into the eyes of his peers from whom he will win their money through the cards, a very important transformation occurs.
Now he is no longer James Lim from Finance, or Benjamin Teoh, father of two, or Teng Hock Aun, veteran coffeeshop operator.
No, now he is the God of Gamblers. In his mind, he is Chow Yun Fatt with a slick hairstyle and expensive suit.
And so the deck is shuffled by an appointed person. The person, having shuffled sufficiently, now distributes the cards, two each to every player. Let’s go back to our Chinese man. He now has in his hands, two cards. The deck of cards is at least a clear 30 inches away from him.
Now lets make something perfectly clear.
There is NO POSSIBLE WAY for him to change the cards that he has in his hands without cheating. NO POSSIBLE WAY. The strength of his two cards in this game of blackjack was determined when the person was randomly shuffling his deck and then distributed. The luck of his hand was there, right in the moment when the deck was shuffled.
But Mr. God of Gamblers thinks otherwise. Because now comes, in his mind, the most important, pivotal part of the game. Everything hangs onto this one interaction between him and the cards. He now has to ‘will’ the cards in his hand to be an Ace and a King, Queen, Jack or ten. Nevermind the fact that what he has in his hands were determined BEFORE he got them in his possession.
He doesn’t just turn them over, because turning them over to reveal the cards would immediately call upon some force of nature to change his cards to a three and two.No, he now has to press with ALL his might the two cards with his palms, as though trying to fuse both cards to become one, and ever so slowly part them, as though trying to erode the very ink of the cards, slowly, bit by bit, micrometer by micrometer, to reveal the edges of the cards.
And our God of Gamblers starts to erode his cards...sweating…herniating…leaking bodily fluids from every orifice available on his face, sweat coming out of every possible gland……okay…come on…let me see a blue line…come on….more sweat coming out…let’s see that blue line…. YES!!!! A BLUE LINE!!! It’s either a King, Queen or Jack!
Now he turns the just revealed card over to shield the other unseen card. And repeats the process…slowly eroding….yes come on…let’s see the edge empty…I want that Ace…more sweat…he is now swimming in sweat….come on..okay so far so good..all clear…and YES!!!! AN ACE!!!
BLACK JACK BABY!!!!
His face flushed with triumph, he slams the two cards down on the table with a flourish, for he has now earned twice the amount of money he has bet. His facial expression is not one of happiness, but that of a person who has actually worked hard for the money. For he earned the Ace and the King. It was through his work of art, involving his hands, that he was able physically make his cards appear so.
Can you imagine the Ruler of the World, a Chinese emperor of sorts, sitting down at a table, with a deck of cards, facing a president of some sort of world charity organization?
“ Okay…if I get an Ace….I will wipe put world poverty…..let’s see…okay…come on…let’s see that edge nice and clear…come on…so far so good…okay…seems clear…wait …oh no…it’s a Two..sorry that means Africa has to give us money instead..oh you’re not happy? Okay let’s take another card…Ace means you get to keep your head attached to your body….okay come on…let’s see that edge nice and clear…hey where are you going?”
And my understanding of world events are even worse. I feel very nervous when people asked me, “Hey have you heard of so and so who did such and such at ….”, because my general knowledge is so poor. But over the years I have come up with 2 ‘safety sentences’ which are guaranteed to keep the conversation flowing and more importantly, make me look like a knowledgeable person.
The first one is : “Yeah, trouble in the Middle East again. What we really need is someone brave enough to take a stance, and get the parties involved talking again.That’s how the peace process can resume”
Now of course, that sentence means absolutely nothing to me.Where the hell is this so-called "Middle East" anyway? Somewhere in Perak? But because I have heard it mentioned in the news so many times, and always involving violence and people refusing to negotiate, when I just utter those few sentences, invariably people will agree with me.Brilliant
The second one is : Yeah, China is in a diplomatic mess again.”
This one works because China is ALWAYS in some sort of diplomatic mess. Tibet, Olympic Games, Communist regime, stealing secrets from the US, they are always in the news, and usually in a very controversial position.
The thing about China is that US is afraid of their progress. 45 year old and above man I know has told me the same story, “Hey, China is going to take over the world you know!”, in a tone that suggests that at one time or another, they were King of The World and their knowledge of current events is first class.
I don’t think China is going to take over anything anytime soon. And there are two reasons : -
1) Most of them can’t speak English
If you can’t speak English properly, then your video message that will be sent all over the world proclaiming your dominance over Earth won’t be impressive. And the whole mystique of controlling the entire world will be gone if it is spelt out with subtitles on the bottom of the screen.
2) Chinese people like to gamble.
This love for gambling has been embedded in the genes of every Chinese born. It has been foretold long ago in the heavens when the Earth was made that ‘Damnit, you Chinese shall go forth and gamble”. I shudder to think of the Fate of our world when they negotiate trade deals and declarations of war by inviting the other countries to participate in a friendly, yet highly tensed game of Mah Jong, or Cho Tai Ti.
More of interest to us though, is the way they gamble. I don’t care if you are a professor, Nobel prize winner, MENSA president, etc, if you are Chinese, the moment you gamble, all your intelligence, education and logic goes out the window.
You see, at the gambling table, Chinese people don’t believe in luck. Luck is for losers. Every Chinese person at the gambling table believes that how much money they win is determined by their own hands, and quite literally. Here’s a normal setup for a gambling session :-
A Chinese man is invited for a game of blackjack. After all, it’s a few more weeks to CNY, so best to get some practice in. Real money is involved of course. So the man sits at the gambling table. Now, at this precise moment where he is physically seated and staring into the eyes of his peers from whom he will win their money through the cards, a very important transformation occurs.
Now he is no longer James Lim from Finance, or Benjamin Teoh, father of two, or Teng Hock Aun, veteran coffeeshop operator.
No, now he is the God of Gamblers. In his mind, he is Chow Yun Fatt with a slick hairstyle and expensive suit.
And so the deck is shuffled by an appointed person. The person, having shuffled sufficiently, now distributes the cards, two each to every player. Let’s go back to our Chinese man. He now has in his hands, two cards. The deck of cards is at least a clear 30 inches away from him.
Now lets make something perfectly clear.
There is NO POSSIBLE WAY for him to change the cards that he has in his hands without cheating. NO POSSIBLE WAY. The strength of his two cards in this game of blackjack was determined when the person was randomly shuffling his deck and then distributed. The luck of his hand was there, right in the moment when the deck was shuffled.
But Mr. God of Gamblers thinks otherwise. Because now comes, in his mind, the most important, pivotal part of the game. Everything hangs onto this one interaction between him and the cards. He now has to ‘will’ the cards in his hand to be an Ace and a King, Queen, Jack or ten. Nevermind the fact that what he has in his hands were determined BEFORE he got them in his possession.
He doesn’t just turn them over, because turning them over to reveal the cards would immediately call upon some force of nature to change his cards to a three and two.No, he now has to press with ALL his might the two cards with his palms, as though trying to fuse both cards to become one, and ever so slowly part them, as though trying to erode the very ink of the cards, slowly, bit by bit, micrometer by micrometer, to reveal the edges of the cards.
And our God of Gamblers starts to erode his cards...sweating…herniating…leaking bodily fluids from every orifice available on his face, sweat coming out of every possible gland……okay…come on…let me see a blue line…come on….more sweat coming out…let’s see that blue line…. YES!!!! A BLUE LINE!!! It’s either a King, Queen or Jack!
Now he turns the just revealed card over to shield the other unseen card. And repeats the process…slowly eroding….yes come on…let’s see the edge empty…I want that Ace…more sweat…he is now swimming in sweat….come on..okay so far so good..all clear…and YES!!!! AN ACE!!!
BLACK JACK BABY!!!!
His face flushed with triumph, he slams the two cards down on the table with a flourish, for he has now earned twice the amount of money he has bet. His facial expression is not one of happiness, but that of a person who has actually worked hard for the money. For he earned the Ace and the King. It was through his work of art, involving his hands, that he was able physically make his cards appear so.
Can you imagine the Ruler of the World, a Chinese emperor of sorts, sitting down at a table, with a deck of cards, facing a president of some sort of world charity organization?
“ Okay…if I get an Ace….I will wipe put world poverty…..let’s see…okay…come on…let’s see that edge nice and clear…come on…so far so good…okay…seems clear…wait …oh no…it’s a Two..sorry that means Africa has to give us money instead..oh you’re not happy? Okay let’s take another card…Ace means you get to keep your head attached to your body….okay come on…let’s see that edge nice and clear…hey where are you going?”
Friday, May 16, 2008
A Pre-emptive Strike!
In September 11,2001,a group of bearded men hijacked a couple of planes and flew them into the World Trade Centre the Pentagon.This tragic and horrifying incident heralded the start of a new global conflict,one that will be remembered alongside the both the World Wars,the Nazi Holocaust,the Cold War and all the other large-scale conflicts that shook and changed the world forever.Also,the man on the street lay witness to terrorist tactics,one which involved a modified type of suicide bombing,which came at a very little cost while giving rise to a maximal damage,both physically and psychologically.
In such harrowing times,Malaysia must be prepared for such attacks.For what if a certain world superpower decided that we harboured terrorists in our own backyard?I mean,the Taliban could very well be chilling on Pulau Langkawi,eating satay at Kajang or roti canai at any one of the thousands of mamak stores nationwide.We must definitely defend ourselves if such an attack on our sovereignity was imminent.And as they say,the best defense is a good offense.So,I suggest we conduct pre-emptive strikes to defend our country.The ends justify the means.
How would we do this,you say?Well we use terrorist tactics,but the difference between my proposed strategy and the one employed by the group of fanatics on September 11 is this : it is not suicidal. This particular tactic of mine only requires a few good men and no one dies.Best of all,it is not even a recognized military strategy,so they won’t know it’s us!My pre-emptive,strike-first-before-they-strike-us strategy is : -
Send some Malaysian drivers to our enemy’s country.
Think about it.We send in an attack squad of maybe 10 to 15 motorcyclists,who are usually between 18 to 21,unemployed and extremely stupid,and supported by 40 other hardcore drivers,you know,bus and taxi-drivers.All we have to do is migrate them there,get them some crappy part time jobs,but here’s the catch : their place of work and their living quarters must be at opposite sides of the enemey city.Then,when they start commuting to and fro work on their vehicles,maximum mayhem and chaos will ensue.Millions of enemy civilians will die,causing great depletion of national resources,manpower and a major dent in their economy,rendering them unable to mount any attack on us.
Driving in Penang is unlike driving in any other place.Here,when you are on a two-lane road and you want to switch lanes,you are not supposed to put on your signal,indicating which way you want to switch,because to the Penang driver behind you,that means he has to immediately speed up to your side,blocking you so that you now cannot switch lanes.This has been written down in our Malaysian Constitution,thanks to the wisdom of our forefathers.In fact,if a Penang driver were to mistakenly put on his signal when attempting to switch lanes and if you are behind him and you fail to block his path,then this will only confuse and disorientate him.This is highly dangerous.
Eye contact while driving is also very dangerous in Penang.Once,in KL,a female friend of mine was afraid of people who stared at her when she was driving,because according to her,”they all seemed like they want to rape me”.Things are not so different in Penang.While driving to Seberang Jaya one day,I passed by an awesome looking Mercedes.As I glanced over to look at it,I happened to look at the driver’s face who looked like a demure Chinese girl.She then returned my glance with a such an intense,unforgiving look that I thought she wanted to rape me.
You may have also realized that in Penang,motorcyclists are – to use the politically correct term – demon spawns from hell. According to mythology,demon spawns are servant of Satan and are therefore not bound to the physical laws that govern our world.This thoroughly explains why motorcyclists weave in and out of traffic with no regard for their lives.If they could,they would weave under a truck.Due to such bravery,I propose that we also train some of the demon spawns to become Highly Mobile Emergency Specialists,who will be on-call 24/7,riding their motorbikes to the rescue,because with all the weaving that they do,they will reach the victims in no time,freeing up the ambulances to cope with the other accident victims left behind in the wake of all the weaving.
With all the chaos of Penang driving,we as medical students must remember that we are above such behaviour.I am proud to say that I do my civic duty to make Penang a safer place to drive.Just yesterday,an obviously poorly trained Penang driver dangerously swerved in front of my car, with his signal on.To gently remind him of his inappropriate driving technique,I pressed both palms on my steering wheel to horn him continuously for 5 minutes,all the while following him from behind to not let him out of my sight.I then drove up beside him,smiled and gave him a cheery little wave,but without eye contact.
Well,I am almost reaching my destination now,so I will have to end it here.Driving while typing on such a slow laptop is quite exasperating,to be honest,but you do what you have – hey it’s that same car I honked at yesterday!Wonder what he is doing driving up so closely behind me.Oh look,the driver’s getting out,maybe he wants to say thank you for the reminder I gave him.Wonder why he has a baseball ba
-END-
In such harrowing times,Malaysia must be prepared for such attacks.For what if a certain world superpower decided that we harboured terrorists in our own backyard?I mean,the Taliban could very well be chilling on Pulau Langkawi,eating satay at Kajang or roti canai at any one of the thousands of mamak stores nationwide.We must definitely defend ourselves if such an attack on our sovereignity was imminent.And as they say,the best defense is a good offense.So,I suggest we conduct pre-emptive strikes to defend our country.The ends justify the means.
How would we do this,you say?Well we use terrorist tactics,but the difference between my proposed strategy and the one employed by the group of fanatics on September 11 is this : it is not suicidal. This particular tactic of mine only requires a few good men and no one dies.Best of all,it is not even a recognized military strategy,so they won’t know it’s us!My pre-emptive,strike-first-before-they-strike-us strategy is : -
Send some Malaysian drivers to our enemy’s country.
Think about it.We send in an attack squad of maybe 10 to 15 motorcyclists,who are usually between 18 to 21,unemployed and extremely stupid,and supported by 40 other hardcore drivers,you know,bus and taxi-drivers.All we have to do is migrate them there,get them some crappy part time jobs,but here’s the catch : their place of work and their living quarters must be at opposite sides of the enemey city.Then,when they start commuting to and fro work on their vehicles,maximum mayhem and chaos will ensue.Millions of enemy civilians will die,causing great depletion of national resources,manpower and a major dent in their economy,rendering them unable to mount any attack on us.
Driving in Penang is unlike driving in any other place.Here,when you are on a two-lane road and you want to switch lanes,you are not supposed to put on your signal,indicating which way you want to switch,because to the Penang driver behind you,that means he has to immediately speed up to your side,blocking you so that you now cannot switch lanes.This has been written down in our Malaysian Constitution,thanks to the wisdom of our forefathers.In fact,if a Penang driver were to mistakenly put on his signal when attempting to switch lanes and if you are behind him and you fail to block his path,then this will only confuse and disorientate him.This is highly dangerous.
Eye contact while driving is also very dangerous in Penang.Once,in KL,a female friend of mine was afraid of people who stared at her when she was driving,because according to her,”they all seemed like they want to rape me”.Things are not so different in Penang.While driving to Seberang Jaya one day,I passed by an awesome looking Mercedes.As I glanced over to look at it,I happened to look at the driver’s face who looked like a demure Chinese girl.She then returned my glance with a such an intense,unforgiving look that I thought she wanted to rape me.
You may have also realized that in Penang,motorcyclists are – to use the politically correct term – demon spawns from hell. According to mythology,demon spawns are servant of Satan and are therefore not bound to the physical laws that govern our world.This thoroughly explains why motorcyclists weave in and out of traffic with no regard for their lives.If they could,they would weave under a truck.Due to such bravery,I propose that we also train some of the demon spawns to become Highly Mobile Emergency Specialists,who will be on-call 24/7,riding their motorbikes to the rescue,because with all the weaving that they do,they will reach the victims in no time,freeing up the ambulances to cope with the other accident victims left behind in the wake of all the weaving.
With all the chaos of Penang driving,we as medical students must remember that we are above such behaviour.I am proud to say that I do my civic duty to make Penang a safer place to drive.Just yesterday,an obviously poorly trained Penang driver dangerously swerved in front of my car, with his signal on.To gently remind him of his inappropriate driving technique,I pressed both palms on my steering wheel to horn him continuously for 5 minutes,all the while following him from behind to not let him out of my sight.I then drove up beside him,smiled and gave him a cheery little wave,but without eye contact.
Well,I am almost reaching my destination now,so I will have to end it here.Driving while typing on such a slow laptop is quite exasperating,to be honest,but you do what you have – hey it’s that same car I honked at yesterday!Wonder what he is doing driving up so closely behind me.Oh look,the driver’s getting out,maybe he wants to say thank you for the reminder I gave him.Wonder why he has a baseball ba
-END-
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