Havana. Changkat Bukit Bintang, KL. Crocodiles. If You Can Beat 'Em, Eat 'Em.

from Paranoid Android

"A communist is like a crocodile : when it opens its mouth you cannot tell whether it is trying to smile or preparing to eat you up" - Sir Winston Churchill

Substitute the word communist with Politician and that sums up how i feel about Politicians in Malaysia. Thank goodness something good came out of the recent debacle. A lot of love and goodness, from all walks of life and all colours and creed.


A group of youths have taken to initiative to come together, bridging the boundaries of race and religion to re-assure everybody that "Everything is gonna be alright", passing out flowers to everybody who walked pass them. Would have waited for Marina Mahathir to grace the occasion as well, but I had to rush off to Low Yatt to get my BB Bold II (BB 9700), the current love of my life.

It's not exactly the proper time to celebrate, but Ciki and I decided to do lunch together, and having having read Sean's post about Crocodile meat, we decided to pop over to Havana. We wanted to work some white magic to rid our nation from some evil spell that has made a lot of people irrational and moronic.


The ritual began with the offering of a jug of Sangria, with hints of cinnamon and loads of fresh lime and green apples. The Sangria that was blended by Havana would have made Zeus fly down from Mount Olympus to join us at Changkat, as one sip of this beautiful nectar would have calmed Juno's wrathful jealousy. Slowly, Ciki fell into a deep trance and was visited by Bacchus or Dionysus (his roman name).


"Drink!", said Dionysus. "It's Ribena!". And I drank and drunk, drunk and drank. In a fit of Bacchanalian stupor, I was transported to another place and time. In this dreamy world, I saw a crawfish. A mean nasty crawfish with nasty pincers, whose was was contorted with a perpetual smug smirk. Behind him were his band of brother. All of them looked the same. It was surreal.

"Who are you?", the crawfish squealed.
"Erm.... The Paranoid Android. And you?..."
"I'm Bigot Bardot. Meet my brothers Xeno-phobe, Ig-no-rance, Self-Right-shuss, Pre-joo-dis and Koh-Rup_Shen. We belong to the Merry Idiotic Brothers of Intolerance."
Remembering Dionysus who gave me the Silver Kris and my promise to bath it with the blood of intolerance, I pulled it out from the sheath and plunged it into their hearts, my eyes filled with tears that they still existed at this day and age.

I brought their sorry carcasses to the chef at Havana. He duly chopped their flesh up, mixed it with some mashed potatos, onion, garlic, celery and pepper, breaded it and fried it and turned them into Crawfish Boulette. Light and Crispy exterior with a luxuriously flavoured interior, both Dionysus and I polished the Boulettes and toasted to the extinction of Bigot Bardot and his merry band of intolerant, idiotic brothers.


"Drink, Android. You are now ready for the next test.", Dionysus exhorted me. And I drank and drunk and drank and drunk more of the delicious nectar. Again I was transported to another ethereal world, but this time it bore an unbearable stench that was fragrant initially yet disturbingly, had a bottom note of rotting, putrid flesh.

And in that stinky world, I came face to face with X3-mism. It looked like a wolf with a forced beatific smile and was wearing a cape made of lamb fleece.

"Who in God's name are you?", he snarled at me.
"The Android", I stuttered. "I know you. You are the one who always Talk about God, Fight for God and get Agitated about God. Yet you never do what god tells you. Be meek and turn the other cheek. Bah! You talk about God's attributes yet do not display any of it. Compassion, Mercy and Love are all alien to you".
"How dare you insult my God?", the wolf in sheep's clothing snarled.
"Hello, Dolt! I am insulting you. Not your God. Your God is good, but you are bad", I retorted.
"NO! You swine. You insulted my God and I am going to kill you!", it ranted like a mad man.

I had no choice. In order to silence him I took out my sword of knowledge and enlightenment and lobbed of it's sorry head. I carried it's carcass back to Havana and the Chef turned it into an Andouille Sausage to be used in concocting the Jambalaya. Dionysus and I marveled at the the dish when it was served. The chicken meat chunks and Prawns were beautifully fried, light and crispy. But when I dug into the rice, I crinkled my nose.

"What's wrong?", Dionysus asked me.
"The rice..... It tastes weird and very gamey".
Dionysus dug into the rice and fished out a piece of sausage. The same sausage that was made from the meat of wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Imagine this plate of Jambalaya to be a country. Although X3-mism dead, the stench is still strong enough to permeate through every grain of rice, causing a discordant note. That is why everybody must be vigilant and nip it in the bud. It is easy for people to demand things from others. Demand to use this or that. Demand to stop using this and that. But the proper thing that is demanded from their faith in Almighty is for them to change themselves and transform their life to be a beacon of love and faith. That is the most difficult thing to do. Many people seem to be fighting for the cause of Almighty, but if you see through them, they are just a bunch of narcissistic ego maniacs. They misuse the name Almighty so that they appear to be champions of their cause, and hence gain adulation and respect from others. They do not love the Almighty. They love themselves."


"You shall know the tree by the fruit it bears. Be patient!", Dionysus said. "As a parting gift, I brought you some crocodile meat from Australia."

The Chef had grilled the crocodile meat on skewers and it was served with some salsa thingy.

"It tastes like chicken! But it is so, so, so very tough! Barely edible without the sauce!", I exclaimed.
"Politicians are thick skinned. Hence the tough meat. And deep down inside, bad politicians are chickens. They do everything for political survival. They are not brave enough to change what is wrong for the fear of losing support. Not everybody is like the intellectual Gus Dur. His views on tolerance and pluralism is unusually courageous!", said Dionysus. "And now, I must leave you, my friend. Go forth with the message of love from me, a Pagan God, and a figment of your over active imagination".

Ciki snapped out of her trance and was again her beautiful, energetic self.

A tall tale, badly written by me and a departure from the norm. As I walked down Changkat I felt better, my conversation and adventures with a creature I summoned from the depths of my mind was cathartic. And I appeal to all of you reading this blog to give some thought to what your faith is, and what it really means to you. As for the Android, it is painfully easy. It only believes in reason and rationality. But if everything fails, it believes in love and the universal goodness of man. I'm a hopeless romantic.

Havana
No. 2 & 4, Lorong Sahabat
Off Changkat Bukit Bintang,
50200 Kuala Lumpur.

Add: Just came across MM's post here. Please click. FYI, The Android is neither a Muslim or a Christian, but feels that to try a divine matter in a court of man made law is undignified and ridiculous. It should be solved by an open dialogue by all parties.

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