Personality Tests and Musicology: the How, the Why, and Strange-Sized Boxes

Over a significant part of the past year, I've observed two interesting, and occasionally bemusing, currents in social dynamics which have come across my path. One is the interest of a surprisingly high percentage of the people I know in personality tests, of the species that Myers-Briggs would belong. And the second is of a more esoteric, and in some ways more personal, conflict of ideologies in musicology.

Personality tests, say some, provide crucial clues to why people act the way they do. And the logic is fair enough; if you figured accurately - or as in this case, I simply told you - that I was an ENFJ (Extroversion, Intuition, Feeling, Judging) personality type, this may presumably lead you to predict the course of my actions. You may even read these very words and filter them accordingly; depending on your own personality type, you may decide whether any points I make make sense to you. My intuitive actions may reveal a decision-making process that either match or counter your own. In other words, and with the caveat of generalization, personality types reveal why we do the things we do.

But in recent days, I've come to think that personality types only reveal the method of delivery - the how, and not the why, of our actions. To put this in another way, it is perhaps less inevitable that you're reading these particular opinions, as it is that I've decided to pen them in this way.

Allow me to digress. I have a notebook named A Black Fat Cat, that like many meaningful things, has a unique and personal history. It's not a diary in any sense - because I'm philosophically but not particularly logically aligned against a dairy - but part of its content are thoughts in the middle of the night, the middle of the night being when I have most of my thoughts. (This being an early morning post should now give you pause.) And what I wrote recently was: "Is seriousness in content, or in delivery?"

In a sense it deals with an issue that I've faced in my struggles in producing research content, and then dealing with the resistance it faces from the hardline, and in some cases dominant strain of musicologists. I am serious about research in music, but I've also had an unusual grounding in communications, the field in which I obtained my first tertiary qualification. Some approach presentations of research seemingly having ever-present in their mind how it would look should these very words commute themselves to the esteemed pages of published proceedings. Others - with whom I am aligned - prefer to consider the audience of the day, with the idea that content may provide stature, while delivery quite simply retains one's attention. Humour, in this case and perhaps counter-intuitively does not detract from the seriousness of the research output; it simply makes sure that attention is garnered to its delivery. It comes from an understanding that it is my job to make you or keep you interested in what I do. In this regard, I think that adapting to the situation at hand is the preferable skill, and while a script or cue cards may be useful to have as a backup in case your mind goes blank, let's hope that a blank mind is not the game plan.

This of course extends beyond simple delivery. The choice of our content establishes the same approach: whether we choose to recognize research that directly relates to the performer, or whether we prefer - and some cases, for good or for ill, establish - research that exists on a more lofty and less applicable plane. For reasons that remain somewhat inexplicable to me, those in the latter category seem to be the most critical of others, in establishing a category of musicology that explains why people sometimes say, "That may be an interesting question, but really, it's just purely academic."

At one point, I considered that the concepts towards personalities and the approaches towards musicology may be parallel. And perhaps they are indeed so. Perhaps it is a simply a clash of personalities in musicologists between those who welcome the opportunity to directly connect to a room full of strangers, and those who prefer the security not only of the third person, but a topic far removed from a personal connection. But the more I mull over the like of the Myers-Briggs, the more I realise that as effective as they may be in providing a clue to one's personality, they provide little in terms of character.

And likewise, when dealing with the kind of musicologists who create barriers and attempt to place artificial constraints on how progress of thought must be - in other words, those who want to determine the boxes from which you are to choose - there are perhaps two plausible ways to consider this. One is that is simply a conflict not of ideologies, but of personalities. For whatever reason, probably beyond what even the Myers-Briggs can predict, these researchers need the security of you fitting into their personalities.

Or it could be a second plausibility: that it is less about personality than it is about character. And while it may always be easier in life to have people about you who have personality types you work best with, it comes down to character as to how people approach those who don't fit the boxes you'd like to create.

Accommodation of those who are different, throughout history of race relations, religious conflicts, civil rights, issues of gender and sexuality and political affiliation, all come down to an essential question not of which of the 16 personality types you happen to be born into, but rather what kind of person you choose to be.

An Unvarnished Look at the MPO, the MPYO and Music-Making in Malaysia

Malaysia has a rather odd way of celebrating excellence. In sports, where representing your country is a given part of the game (well, unless you’re from China), the government provides incentives in the shape of financial rewards, your occasional car or even a house, and eventually a Datukship. In some cases – most notably Datuk Nicol David and Datuk Lee Chong Wei – this is certainly well-earned.

However, in other fields where representing your country is distinctly not part of the game the governmental policy seems to be to wait till Malaysians have left for greener pastures and prospered, then to give them a Datukship in hopes of laying claim to a part of the fame they have achieved. Worse yet, using the term “Malaysian-born” for the ones who not only don’t live in the country, but who have opted for citizenship of another country. (And ironically, who would probably still be Malaysian citizens if the government allowed dual citizenship.) We see this in academics and scientific discoveries, and we see this in the celebration in the press of an exemplary Malaysian student in a Singaporean school, somehow without the obvious discussion of why a bright Malaysian mind would prefer to go across the Causeway. We see this more than ever in film – when’s the last time you saw Datuk Michelle Yeoh in a Malaysian production? – and with Shahrukh Khan, it seems we also want a taste of the fame of those who don’t even have a clue they’ve been given a Datukship.

And yes, this happens in the field of music as well. Don’t believe me? Just Google “Malaysian born” and see what you get.

To put it starkly: we haven’t built a proper arts academy, conservatory or school of the arts in the same way as one builds facilities for the development of sports. Instead, we wait till some other country has obtained our talent, very likely by way of having offered them scholarships, and then we ‘claim’ them with a Datukship. Something tells me that you don’t have to get a Ph.D. in order to call out this strategy for its dumbship.

I hear a voice at the back of my own head saying, “Whoa, hold on a sec, surely that’s going a bit far. After all, Petronas built this amazing hall, established the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra, and in more recent years put together a pretty decent national youth orchestra.” And there’s some truth in that.

But here’s the catch: when you define Petronas on par with the government, it opens up that policy to the same scrutiny you would give a country’s ministry of education. Which is quite different from whether YTL would prefer to fund the Kuala Lumpur Symphony Orchestra or the KL Performing Arts Centre; quite frankly, as a private entity and patron, YTL can do whatever it wants with its money.

If we choose to be ungracious about it, the whole MPO effort is short-sighted and non-sustainable, opting to rent an entity and label it as an achievement. Once the MPO toyed with the idea of an apprenticeship, but it seems even a rent-to-own system is asking too much.

If we choose to be gracious about it, the whole MPO effort has been akin to trickle-down economics. This all comes with the faith that when you put something there for the best, it will have a multiplier effect of sorts – one could say, a reverse approach of micro-financing. The idea is that when you inspire people by showing them the MPO’s international level, or bring together the best of Malaysian youth, somehow this will have a transformative effect on the nation as a whole.

One could say that as a concept it has some history of success elsewhere, with Dr Marc Rochester’s blog recently dealing with this to some extent. For whatever reason, however, it just has not worked in Malaysia. While we have gems of teachers like Miranda Playfair, who was known to have lessons with hours of bonus time, and Orsolya Korcsolan and Gergely Sugar, who gave free masterclasses in Penang, and Joost Flach, who has developed winds in Ipoh, we also have too many stories of MPO members who revel a bit too much in their expatriate status. There are too many stories of MPO members who circumvent the system of subsidized teaching through the organization in order to charge RM250 an hour privately for lessons which often go undertime. How many of these stories are accurate is indeterminate, but it did seem strange that a while back, it was insisted that the MPYO members provide the names of their teachers under the guise of forming some level of engagement and furthering a larger plan of music education. Being one of those teachers, I told my student that I didn’t expect even one email, and sadly my cynicism was proven correct, leading to my suspicion that it was a front for hunting down the MPO members who, for want of a better word, led to a black market in music education.

The larger point, though, is that the little island nation to our south decided instead to offer scholarships, bringing back newly-minted professional Singaporean musicians to their own country via bonds attached to those grants. And as I mentioned to Dr Marc, if both the MPO and the SSO were to face an untimely demise, there would be far more Singaporean professionals remaining, than Malaysian ones – not because of a lack of talent, but rather which magnet brought that talent on board.

The MPYO, unbeknownst to most of their members, is facing a similar issue. They can regard their orchestra as the elitist instution of their generation, or they can choose to take their new training as an obligation to not only trickle-down, but truly multiply the talents available in their hometowns. Not surprisingly akin to the MPO, there are examples of both of these, and in some circles the bad apples are indeed spoiling the bunch. In others, up-and-coming musicians are gaining the respect not only of their peers but of the generation before them. This fork in the road, above all else, will be the defining decision of today’s generation of aspiring musicians. Karma-like, it will determine how their own aspirations will be treated by those who established a foundation, well before the MPO began, and with lesser funding and far more challenges.

It comes down to this: when you build the Sepang F1 track, it doesn’t automatically make Malaysians into champion race drivers. It might work in places where the distance between Main Street and the race track are closer, and it is up to us to bridge that gap. This comes from institutions like Petronas, as well as the public in scrutinizing how their national property is utilized – and most importantly, the young musicians, deciding what their definition of talent really is: the ability to show, or the ability to share.

Andrew Filmer

In the Company of Music

When I first started in a small Suzuki-like violin programme, I remember someone telling my mother that it was a good move as kids who stick in the programme don't end up in bad company later on. I think the actual words were along the lines of "how many violent kids do you know who play the violin?"

(Ironically, I ended up playing the viola. But that's another story.)

There's an interesting perspective to that though. That there are people who get their kids enrolled in music programmes not just for the intellectual development or just the enjoyment of sound - but because of a kind of culture that it promotes. That music kids are good kids.

The societal dynamics of how that goes on beyond childhood is entirely a new matter, of course. In the States you have high school students who proudly wear jerseys with orchestra badges, to in a way match the young American football stars with jerseys of their own. In Penang about eight years ago, there was a whole debate as to whether playing in an orchestra should be counted alongside the Scouts, karate teams, and most interestingly school bands - in the end, is the definition of a "uniformed body" simply being part of a something that promotes teamwork and hard work.

In the end, there is a kind of exclusion - being a "cool" scout patrol leader commanding his group of 15 devout followers - that somehow didn't quite apply to someone being able to play Bach from memory. I think sometimes the backlash is a created sense of elitism. That a young student grasps and displays musical initials like "ATCL" up in order to match someone else's "ATL". And in the end we lose sight of the larger picture that it matters less if you are indeed an Associate of the Trinity College of Music or an Assistant Troop Leader than what you do with the skills you possess. When I took Penang Free School's 1st Georgetown South Troop up on a camping trip, I decided to perch myself on a tree and observe, and noted a scout leader go round trying to help the loners get better integrated to the rest of the team. And at that point it didn't matter to me what initials he had before or after his name - or in a different perspective, I'm glad he soon gained the letters ATL which I think he certainly lived up to.

We in music are challenged every day to live up to these ideals of a team that is a right place for good kids that grow up to be good adults. We are challenged by those among us who actively work to break up that idea and that ideal, like those who created this blog with what seems to the the sole intent of ignorantly insulting others in the comments section. And to add cowardice to maliciousness, to do so anonymously, not taking responsibility for one's words.

At times like these I am reminded to value the times when musicians do act in ways which help their fellow man, even if it's just what to do in the break time of a long and tiring orchestra rehearsal:


It reminds me that we always have choices, small ones and big ones, and those choices make up for one's true value - one's true measure.

Life as a Musician: A Very Human Music

The number of things that one has to do to make music tends to distract from what it’s really all about.

We start off as students, and many of us get into this about whether we’re first clarinet or second clarinet, and whether we’ve some level of music exams that too many young people equate to actual musicianship. Then we’re at a stage when hey, this music thing could be serious, and there’s this massive planning about travelling to get high level lessons, or thinking about investing in an instrument and how much it’s going to cost and what we can afford. And suddenly you find out there’s a bow or a mouthpiece that you never knew you needed and you can’t imagine living another day without it. And then you enter university studying music, or dive straight in to the working world and you try to squeeze 25 hours out of a day which stubbornly wants to stick to 24, struggling in personal practice in that push to be all you can be while teaching or working part time to to make sure you have enough to get something to eat. You start thinking about new applications, auditions, competitions. As you get more into the industry, you realize that if you want to be involved in certain projects you’ve got to take a role in actually organizing it, and then you get into scheduling of rehearsals and booking a hall and licensing and sponsorship. And then it’s networking, meeting the right people, worrying about whether you said the right things at the right time, and self-examining which part of each of us is most useful in fitting in to this giant jigsaw puzzle.

Investments. Practice rooms. Arrangements. Scheduling. Organizing. Networking. Public relations. All these things which make up being part of making music, and all necessary in moving ahead in the world. It’s a real world, and these are all elements of that reality.

But the best parts of making music are the things that don’t really get mentioned when we think about a career path. For many it’s the parents that start us all off on some instrument because they think it’s going to good for you not so much as a future job but in developing who we are – and for some, when that money for lessons doesn’t come easy. It’s about the teacher who knows better than to argue with you wanting that exam certificate but tries to make sure that in process you get more inspired about the music itself than the piece of paper. The friend who knocks on the door of your practice room and reminds you to take a break before your arms fall off or your lungs explode. The fellow musicians who welcome you back when you return after your studies elsewhere – or welcome you in a new role as a colleague and partner. And musicians who introduce you to others and help you to find a place in their world. Sometimes because some time, somewhere, somebody did the same for them. Sometimes because some time, somewhere, somebody didn’t do the same for them, and that’s the opportunity to make the world a little bit better than the way they found it.

For every one of these very special people, there are probably a dozen backstabbing others, or more often those who are just more in it for themselves than anything else. But then, that’s exactly why we call them special.

People. At the end of the mad race for success, that’s what music is really all about.

At the End of the Day, A Real Lesson in Bogus Degrees

I must say, sometimes these bits of investigative journalism by the Star turn out interesting results. The recent probe into bogus degrees for example. It's only peripherally interesting for me to know about the people who want to sell them (though it's interesting that Google the website of Isles International University and you get a picture of Big Ben!) - what's more fascinating is the people who buy them and then get shocked when they find out that it's not for real.

And what's their response when the little light bulb goes off (and explodes)? That the convocation ceremony was real! Not a mention whether the education was real, not once. And therein lies the crux of the issue, with people thinking that it's about certification and ceremony, and not whether at the end of the day you have a little more rolling around upstairs. There are plenty of stories about pictures of convocation ceremonies with deputy ministers (who obviously aren't too bright themselves), and money gone down the drain, but no complaints about how this could be when I spent so much time in classrooms, pouring countless hours to produce a academically worthy thesis...

You can pity them, I guess, in the sense that you pity anyone who was taken for a ride. But somehow I don't really have much sympathy for these people who essentially thought that money could allow them to cut the cue - putting their quick-and-easy degrees ahead in interviews with others who actually spent time and energy towards getting theirs. So if some of them are worried about their jobs, well, good. Because chances are if it was that piece of paper which got you the job, someone else probably deserved it more.

The real lesson though is that the letters at the end of ones name are only good as an indicator of the intellectual strength of the person. Whatever degree it is, exists as a yardstick to what one has learned, and how useful one can be with that knowledge.

One particular case in the Star:

"Vernon, who works in the hospitality sector, said that he found out about the university from a booth the institution had set up at a Tesco outlet."

Poor man. I could have told him, you can't get a degree... at Tesco.

Tick Tock. You learn some, and then you learn some more.

Usually I spend each birthday writing down the same number of thoughts as the number of years I've clocked up. But this year, thought no. 1 would be that numbers aren't as important as I used to think (either that or I can't hold thirty thoughts in my head at once).

Or rather they should be less important as I make them out to be. I always aim for a round number in the balance of my bank account when I go to the ATM. The same goes for my fake money in Pet Society. I tend to adhere to keeping my practice schedules to the 12 or 6 minute-hand on the clock. Which doesn't quite apply to going to sleep, coz I usually stay up till I'm ready to downright collapse. Something else you shouldn't quite do at the big three-uh-oh.

Just finished a workshop at KLPac, for the HSBC Classics annual music festival. Made me think that we all work for different things. A lot of musicians work for the pure reason of sound, and the ability to produce it at the best level one can achieve. I personally found that the benefit I got most from the workshop was how much I learned in the research process... to have a job where the major component is that you learn, and grow - well, that's what working in academic is all about. And that's the best advertising I can find for a life in the halls of learning.

I don't know where I heard it, but getting easily distracted is a sure sign you're just not that into what you're doing, and you should look for something better. So true.

I think that the so-called talent to make music is essentially having the ability to adapt. That's how some musicians get things faster - because they're more "in tune" with what their fingers, arms, legs, lungs, lip, and whatever else are doing, all the time. Put another way, it's a positive, and selective, hypersensitivity.

If you're up to grow and develop, by the time you're thirty, you've changed certain world views enough times to know that almost every perspective has merit in some sort of way, and the best answers to most questions in life are maybe, sometimes, why not, and all of the above.

I've been inclined to think that if you listen closely enough, you can not only hear a musician's personality... but a small shadow of the quality of his or her character. Watch an orchestra's reaction when a soloist makes an error and you'll may find an interesting clue too.

That being said, having a musician with a good attitude doesn't necessarily make the music tangibly better. It just makes you enjoy the same thing, just a little bit more. And isn't that what music is supposed to be about, anyway?

You don't need to understand to accept, so says my Vietnamese friend. I've mentioned it before, and it's worth mentioning again.

People judge too much, too often, sometimes.

When we're young we like one colour, and then suddenly drop it for another. Orange, then navy blue, you know? Somewhere along the line we end up gravitating to some preference and stay there. And I think it's a pity that we do. I think life would be far more interesting if I woke up tomorrow with a sudden inspiration for purple.

They say the important things in life are small - or come in small boxes. Some of those on my list are ear-plugs, viola strings... and a cheeky grin.

Lastly, for posterity's sake, a bit of a repeat of my Facebook status. My friend asked me to describe my role as a violist in the simplest form possible. To which I replied, "I AM LOVE."

Making Sense of Scholarship

There will, of course, be those who think that my blog title is a little off in a grammatical sense, that it should be "scholarships" or "the scholarship". But the thing is (and yes, I can start a sentence with a conjunction too), the essence of what we call "scholarship" is not a financial grant but the spirit of academic pursuit, the chase of knowledge and fidelity to intellectual maturity. The grant many of us know as the "scholarship" is one of the ways of acknowledging that a person has displayed the potential and earned the chance at being recognized as a scholar (and at a higher level, graduate and teaching assistants). Malaysians tend to forget coveted positions like that of the Queen's Scholar, not just for the financial opportunity it came with, but the responsibility of conducting a career that gave back respect to the award.

But of course the money is important, I know that first hand. And therein lies the conflict between how these two aims not only coexist, but are on each other reliant. It is in this line of thought that I refer you to Ong Tee Keat's comments on reviewing PSD scholarships in today's Star:

Currently, Ong said, the selection is based on four criteria - merit (20%), race (60%), Sabah and Sarawak citizens (10%) and students from underprivileged groups (10%).

He said if meritocracy was part of the criteria, the students’ co-curriculum [sic] activities and interviews should not be included for consideration.

"Meritocracy means it should solely be the students’ results and not any other areas," he said.

If I could take a moment to be self-serving, there is a part of me that wishes that were true. I'd like my current applications to be entirely reliant on GPA, and there's a personal statement - the substitute for an interview - for a New Zealand government doctoral scholarship that's giving me more than a bit of stress. But I understand where Ong Tee Keat is coming from, with all these Chinese students (let's face it, he's saying it on behalf of the MCA after all) with spectacular SPM results who can't get into medicine. And he's right that on an academic level at least they probably earned the level of scholarship more so than some of those who actually got it.

The problem is that he's saying the wrong things, even if they are for the right reasons. Meritocracy does not preclude the use co-curricular activites nor the role of an interview. Leadership ability and the application of theory into practice, for which we have co-curricular activies, are important elements of a scholar. Just as interviews are important not only to assess one's communication skills but to know (especially in our memorization-based public schooling system) that one has skills of analytical thinking that match or balance with the academic results. We need to produce scholars that enter the major academic institutions of the world not to promote our great skills of memory, but to lead intellectual discussions and debates essential to thorough research.

I suspect that Ong knows this, or least he knows that results really isn't what meritocracy is about. Or rather what meritocracy is against. Meritocracy is in truth against the abuse of subjective areas like co-curricular activities and interviews to put people in who shouldn't be there.

More importantly, you can't say that meritocracy is "part of the criteria" - you either have it, or you don't, and all the criteria which any student cannot earn renders it moot.

Of course, race is the hot button when it comes to these discussions, the big taboo. But real meritocracy wouldn't even take into account Sabah and Sarawak, and even the need-basis is often not part of the picture, if someone is truly in need but has not earned the level required. If there are two people for one scholarship award, and one has more need, that's only when it should be taken into account. If there is one scholarship award and no one qualified, then it should not be awarded.

In the end it's not about seeing more Chinese getting PSD scholarships, or I should say it's not just about that. It's not about whose SPM results got them what. It's about who have already graduated from having PSD scholarships and whether they have made their country proud with their public service - that is, after all why they call it the Public Services Department. It's about making sure that whoever it is who gets these scholarships, whether it be 100% Malay or 100% Chinese prove their academic capabilities (and not just their spending abilities), their scholarship, their ability to come back with the title of scholar, proving beyond a doubt that they have given back in stature as much as they have been given in stipend.

Sorry, were you meowing?

Part 1: Welcome to the carousel, please leave your brains at the door

Being away with 14- to 18-hour days tends to do a couple of things to you. One, MSN created a new system called “Live!” and promptly decided that since I hadn’t had any time to log on, I was not quite alive after all. Second, you forget what it’s like to watch TV.

I wandered into the living room and into the 21st century fad of creating sequels to anything that seems to make a buck in theatres. In some cases, considering the titles of some of the movies they’re cloning, it gets a bit ridiculous. Final Fantasy 4, for example. Or, in my case, Save the Last Dance 2. Sounds like Barbra Streisand’s 10th year on a “farewell” tour.

There were some interesting bits though, even without the commanding presence of Julia Stiles in the Save the Last Dance sequel. Like the part where the Julliard dance professor says something to the tune of “How do you know when you’ve made the right motion? The motion becomes you. You become the motion. All things disappear and all you have left is pure emotion.”

Yuuuup, I got a good laugh out of that one. If music has any parallels as an art form, this is pure rubbish. Only amateurs turn off their brains and let pure emotion take over.

And yet so often that’s how it is with life. When things are really worthwhile, one turns off one’s brains and lets emotion take over. Which is often a recipe for forgetting that there’s an open trap door while your all emotional pirouetting makes you think you’re rising to the heavens.

Part 2: Wisdom from the mouths of buffaloes

I have to admire some of these actors and actresses who get picked to do sequels. First of all, they have to realize not only that they weren’t picked for the original movie, but that for the sequel Julia Stiles probably first turned it down, or is now elevated to a new pay bracket. Second, sequels tend to have crappy lines compared to the original, and they have to read it with as much conviction as if they were decent ones. I wonder if they take medication to prevent smirking. Or incessant blinking. Or coughing up yesterday’s lunch.

Sometimes they don’t though. The new dance protagonist actually gets to throw up. If the lines that follow are any indication, she probably didn’t need to fake it. “But it’s just so tough.” Interesting enough though, the responding line by the dance instructor isn’t half bad: “It’s supposed to be tough. Otherwise it wouldn’t be worth it.”

I think that really does touch the heart of it. What really separates winners from quitters isn’t some prize at the end of the road. It’s taking up the challenge. And becoming better for it.

Of course I’m baised, but give me a little credit that I have the guts to admit it. I’ve had to deal with quitters recently, which have made things particularly complex for me. Spectacularly complex, actually. And I’ve been thinking of how at this stage of life one is more aware of our continued upbringing – no longer as young children of our parents, but how we bring ourselves up further as adults.

Let’s say someone has a bad experience with someone who treats animals badly. For a while, our Dogdar or Catdar is all of sudden hyper. We suddenly notice that some of our best friends don’t feed strays who come to the table and meow. We go on a crusade to fight for the rights of undertrodden guinea pigs being used for shampoo research, without first finding out whether their fur coats really do have a brighter sheen. We learn the difference between a chihuahua and a chili dog. And we buy stock in Hello Kitty products. Then probably later than sooner, life goes on and a certain balance is restored, but we’ll always have a extra something when it comes to people who treat animals particularly well – or particularly badly. Just a little something, a little extra. But it’s there.

And so I have a new Quittometer installed and it’s in overdrive. Smells out the scent of unrealized potential and lack of commitment like a durian in a Calvin Clein promotion. There are setbacks however – after a year of practicing till having blisters on my chin, sprains on my back and two bruised wrist bones, it’s finally dawned on me that I’m ready for my audition, and the only thing that has held me back all this while is quite simply that on a stage or in front of a camera, I try too hard. Unnecessary bow pressure creates additional chin pressure and the whole balance is off. The irony of it all should be that the secret to doing well tomorrow is quite simply: while quitters and quitting have no place, there are times when to succeed one has to quit trying too hard.

When Things Just Aren't Right

I’ve got to get down to reading Why Bad Things Happen to Good People. But at the risk of judging a concept by its cover – or at least its choice of title – the point isn’t really about good or bad, but right and wrong.

Bad things happen to good people all the time, but most of the time it doesn’t exactly stop time. Nun steps on a nail. Animal lover gets bit by rabid dog. Occasionally ironic, and always unfortunate, but not something that will shake up your world now is it.

But then something happens which disrupts one’s concept of how things should be. Priests who take sexually assault altar boys. Sacrifice of morals in the name of patriotism. And how the people you trust sometimes end up hurting you the most. Sometimes I think that the context of right and wrong is not just a question of what would be good or bad, but a question of should, and that some things are meant to be in a “right” place in our world.

I’d be more upset having fifty dollars stolen or cheated off me than five hundred dollars stupidly lost at a casino. Which isn’t exactly logical, first from the perspective of how much I’d be losing, and that in the latter case I should feel even worse for quite consciously being an idiot. And yet the fifty weighs that much heavier not because you’re worried that you’d be the target of losing another fifty. It weighs that much simply because it was wrong to have that happen. It wasn’t quite right.

Something that’s bad may not always be wrong – like losing money on cards. Stupid, but not wrong. But something that’s less than worse, could be far more wrong than right.

I used to ask myself what kind of people read Why Bad Things Happen to Good People and self-importantly think that they’re good enough – better enough – not to have bad things happen to them. Nobody’s perfect. The essence of humanity is indeed that we do err, but the point is that to err is to underline that it is a mistake, and the definition of a mistake is the quality that underlies its intent. Yes, we do bad things sometimes – but did we know what we were getting into, when we did them? In some sense it’s about how bad it is we have acted, but perhaps the greater focus is towards whether we’ve done right or wrong. And how much we’ve not only worked toward an admission of responsibility, but true accountability by actions deserving of redemption.

If we’ve chosen to be mature and had a certain moral strength to try to do the right thing – because in the end maturity and strength are essentially about the choice of what we want to be and how much we’re willing to do – then we’ve also chosen to be good people even if we have unfortunately caused bad things to happen. And what defines us as good people is that we know what’s right and wrong and don’t try to rationalize it away. And it is in this sense that the world goes upside down not when bad things happen to good people, but wrong things happen to good people – because that worldview which defines us is also what can most affront us.

I think that perhaps good people are essentially optimists, and bad people are opportunists: both basically revolve around a perspective of life either as having a certain moral order for all, or whether it’s about getting whatever you can that defines the equation. Bad people don't always start bad - in many a sad case it's more about the compromises to ethics, the rationalization that they make along the way, and eventually they're swimming in a sea of grey. As life shows its realities good people end up being closet optimists, bulwarking with a certain cynicism, a certain brand of caution. They’re not pessimists who think that we’re all headed towards the pits, but ones who still value their hope that what they think is right and wrong will be what they see when they look out the window, while knowing that they still need a window, sometimes a bullet-proof one, to keep that hope alive.

Sadly, while it keeps at bay the danger, it makes it difficult to trust others, in trying times even brings doubt to the trust that we’ve already established. The very optimism that first allowed real connections to flourish can come back to shake our very foundations.

It is the price we pay to have a belief in a system of what’s right and what’s wrong. The price being that we have to have that belief placed in doubt. For each challenge to our faith serves to let us remind ourselves why we have actively chosen that faith. And that the choice is not one which we just sign on the dotted line on day one, but one we commit to with every day we spend on the path. In the end it really is not just the destination, and not even the sights and sounds of the journey, but the distance we cover, and the scars we hold as badges of honor.

It’s just not right sometimes.

But we go on nonetheless. And damaged and limping as we are at times, by not giving in, we have hopefully become as a people more “good” today, firmer in knowing that right and wrong takes blood, sweat and tears. And maybe, just maybe, that little effort in the face of wrong, helps to tilt the world a little bit back on its axis.

Where Be The Children

Recently I came across two blog postings that dealt indirectly with the idea of how one generation imparts values to the next.

One was Marina Mahathir’s Merdeka Day blog posting, entitled Communing Over Cupcakes. She mentions that she had put her child in a national school here in Malaysia, which ended up creating a contradiction of values: her daughter came home with “racial-toned language” and Marina noted that “obviously she was being indoctrinated every day with the idea of racial superiority of only one community, hers.” She ended up moving her daughter to a private school after only eight months.

The other was of a response of a librarian who politely refused a parent’s insistence to censor the contents of his library, specifically a children’s text that included the character of a gay uncle. While putting out various reasons why a library has to be neutral to ideology in being a source of information, he noted that the child in question had returned to her mother saying that the book’s perspective was wrong. This, according to the librarian, thus indicated that a library does not have the ability to override a parent’s choice of values to impart to her child, stating that, "In other words, you have taught her your values, and those values have taken hold. That's what parents are supposed to do..."

My question: is it though?

There are quite a number of things which are illegal but hardly immoral. In a Malaysian context consider “illegal gatherings” – which under the Internal Security Act can be any group of three people and above without a police permit – versus the concepts of freedom of expression, association and dissent. Or a far simpler example: pirated DVDs (for non-Malaysian readers it would be good to point out that predatory film companies place the price of a bona fide DVD around eight times the price of a movie ticket, or enough to buy you lunch and dinner for a week). But there are probably far more things which are legal but unethical, including racist, sexist or otherwise bigoted thinking. So long as one doesn’t act too blatantly based on a discriminatory platform, one gets away with it – and if Malaysian politics has shown anything, it’s that one can get away with it even if it is blatant. But in a larger, more international context, Mel Gibson or Isaiah Washington can be bigots in their private life, and the line to cross is when those worldviews are put into destructive action.

For some reason, we don’t consider it crossing the line when these views are put into the heads of children in the home, because of the right of the parents to choose values for their children. So it’s bad behaviour to impart anti-Semitism to a cop who has pulled you over, but alright to plant those same ideas into one’s kids?

Even the best parenting does not always guarantee kids will turn out well, and the picture looks bleak with bad parenting. Sometimes I’m relieved when kids end up with a set of perspectives different from their folks – not because the older generation is wrong, but just to know that beyond individual ideologies, those of the new generation can think for themselves. Which is, incidentally, on occasion is thanks to parents who place independence of the thought over subscription to their own ideology. There’s nothing inherently wrong with Democratic kids from Democratic parents or Republican kids from Republican parents, but if one ticks the ballot box in one spot simply as family tradition, then one throws out the value of democracy. The best parenting is when parents teach their kids the value of voting rather than which party for which to vote.

I used to think that whatever the upbringing, the dawn of one’s age of reasoning, whether it be an arbitrary date like that of 18 or 21 or a rite of passage like the walkabout of the Australian aborigines, determines when one is responsible to think for oneself. But then things happen like young adults – even young parents – who become suicide bombers on public buses, or children in the African who are indoctrinated into becoming killing machines. Which makes me think that in the right rotten environment, one can be robbed of the ability to reason, to think.

Some cases are easily seen as flawed, like the case highlighted by Ellen Degeneres of the young boy who killed his gay classmate because he asked him to be his Valentine. But there are cases which are for the most part accepted in our society without much second thought – like extremely young girls dressed in complete Muslim garb. Cultural or religious integrity is one thing (and I have more Muslims in my extended family than non-Muslims) but can a 9-year old really understand that she’s covered up for a sense of modesty? Is there really that much harm in letting your neighbours know that you have a beautiful child? And Christianity is not without matters which people take for granted. First communion for Catholics, which is given out to those in Standard 3 – which, if my math is correct, also makes them 9 years of age – revolves around one of the toughest concepts of the faith which some adults aren’t completely clear about: transubstantiation.

That being said, in the end, tudungs and communion wafers are likely to do more good than harm in the sense that it is but one aspect of a shared community. The problem is that it’s hard to tell where the boundary is that so often goes trodden unnoticed… when a common cultural identity turns into when schoolchildren are either told that Catholics are better than Protestants, or that Muslims are better than Christians. There is no mechanism to ensure that either parents or institutions are kept in check – as seen by the pro-censorship mother or the national school Marina mentioned.

But with at least one open and progressive mind – whether it be a parent who notes racism creeping into her child’s life or a librarian who keeps knowledge free of bigotry, the next generation might just have a fighting chance.

Your Ears Aren't Alone

I was back in the aisles yesterday, and instead of James Dobson's sneakily cheery voice, I heard Michael Jackson singing Heal the World. The whole Free Willy jazz didn't quite catch me, nor did the whole all-star show, but the actual music - just the pure, unmovienated and unstarsaturated sound - did get me. That whole album was quite something, it had the themes, it had the tunes, it had the rhythm... it had a voice that had something in the shadows that you didn't quite know why it was attractive, a sort of Mona Lisa of sound.

Then we had the whole Neverland Ranch fiasco - where the eventual acquittal didn't quite make up for the previous out-of-court settlement - and suddenly the little girl's voice intermingling with Michael's didn't seem quite as beautifully innocent as it used to.

That's unfortunate. Because ideally the music should stand on its own - if we end up liking the music based on whether we like the personality of the star, we're not really holding music up to a very respectable level. I think that was the basis of Daniel Barenboim conducting Wagner in Germany - the composer may have been anti-Semitic, but it doesn't mean that defined his music.

Perhaps that was the start of it all, Michael Jackson and songs like Heal the World and The Man in the Mirror. Somehow I don't think the greats like Mozart and Bach would have appreciated the idea of a music video determining how well we regarded their concertos. Or perhaps more interestingly, where the likes of Britney Spears would be without MTV.

The Veil of Reflections

When was doing my first degree here in Malaysia, I had a Muslim friend who did not wear the tudung (headscarf) and was ostracized by some of the more traditionalist of her religious compatriots. When I was doing my second degree in America, I had a friend who had converted to Islam and had chosen to wear the tudung… and was asked to leave her job because the customers were getting nervous because they were suspicious that she might be a terrorist.

I didn’t seem to connect the two incidents until earlier today, and my first question was: which situation was worse? Then I realized that that wasn’t the question at all. The real question is were those who discriminated here any different from those who discriminated there?

The tudung is a symbol, to be sure. And in one respect it is a statement of the person who choses to wear it or not wear it. One can wear it out of a sense of modesty, or even as a sign of solidarity – an outward sign of inward grace, if Catholics will allow me a little bit of paraphrasing. One can choose not to wear it because she doesn’t like some of the interpretations of why one wears a tudung – or that she simply views that inward grace is quite sufficient. In any thinking society, there has to be the ability to have a plurality of ideas, and personally I find either idea with merit – the only thing I’m fairly sure about is that in the end it’s a symbol, not the end all and be all. It’s a person’s character shown through actions that counts, and no piece of cloth worn or not worn will ever give or take it away.

I would further argue that the foundation of any sense of spirituality has to be a thinking society where practices are not just replicated but formed from questioning what came before. Just about every major religion has come from that basis: Jesus Christ and the priests of his day who followed the letter but not the spirit of the law, Muhammad who challenged the jahiliah authorities of his era, Buddha who left princehood in search of enlightenment – and I don’t know much about Hinduism, but I seem to recall the elephant god was gained his identity from a situation which illustrated that even the divine can make mistakes, and can rectify them. And for those who prefer to think themselves spiritiual or moral without necessarily subscribing wholesale to a religious doctrine – their very choice itself speaks of the foundation of character building as a search, a discovery… that the process of finding the answer is often more important than the answer itself – or the place the answer is housed.

Chances are it’s not the personal symbolism that disturbed certain people both in northern Malaysia and the American Midwest. I don’t honestly think that Malaysians saw my friend here as promoting sinfulness, or that Americans truly saw my other friend as a terrorist. They suspected – and feared – that the true meaning was something quite different. But I think secretly they desperately wanted to think of not wearing a tudung as promoting sinfulness, or wearing a tudung as a sign of evil.

Because by providing a different point of view, my two friends valiantly disrupted people’s extremely clung-to stereotypes. If wearing a tudung in Malaysia is not enough to guarantee purity, then life gets a little too complicated, doesn’t it? And if you can’t pick out a terrorist by her headgear, then life gets a little too grey for comfort, no? When it comes down to it, people often label others as the enemy not because they are the enemy. The label the others as the enemy so that they can pretend to be the good guys.

The discriminatory social fundamentalists on both sides of the globe would view each other as enemies, no doubt. It’s a crowning irony for these narcissists. For little do they realize that life only gets truly complicated and grey when you don’t realize you’re looking in a mirror and actively hate your own reflection.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

The more I pay attention to politics, the more I feel that we keep getting run over. There's a certain part of politics which is always a lose-lose situation. And the real problem is that that part is the main crux of it all: it's a popularity contest, and everyone wants to win.

Barack Obama gets a cheap shot from people saying that you can't trust him because he's a Muslim. An adamant Obama and an enthusiastic following push forward the clarification that he's a Christian. Which works for a while. Then Reverend Wright comes along.

Ten years ago, Anwar Ibrahim gets accused of sodomy. He denies the charge, and says he does not participate in what he characterized as immoral activities. He is arrested, jailed, and later his conviction is overturned. This week, new allegations arise.

What's wrong with this picture? Both Obama and Anwar - the former who is labeled liberal and the latter who self-identifies as being liberal - have missed the point. The cheap shot is not if someone calls you not black enough, not Malay enough, not Christian enough, or not Muslim enough. It's not a cheap shot because that is the real test of whether we have produced real leaders who stand up to say that hey, that question has nothing to do with what makes me a good leader. The cheap shot is when you descend to that level and defend your Christianity or your heterosexuality, and give that kind of politics the legitimacy it ill deserves.

After all, it's not as if they're saying that you're a suicide bomber or a rapist - if that's the case, then it's a different matter [and yes, in Anwar's case it may end as that this time] and by all means go out and return fire. But so far, what our champions have done is to legitimize the idea that you need Christian qualifications to the President of the United States, and that sexuality should be yet another divisive element in a country already torn by artificial class distinctions. It's not to the extent of the destruction of church and state in America, or the kind of discrimination of the Nazis, but it's certainly a step in the wrong direction. That's the risk - it's easier to see the robber of bank than a bad banker who slowly steals from your account. In that sense, it's more like one step forward, two steps back. Governments based on a twisted form of the cha-cha. How so very reassuring.

Whatever good Obama or Anwar may bring in terms of a cleaner government, had better be more than the impact they have indirectly done to civil liberties and the failure of producing a society more thinking and more mature than the one we had ten months ago, or ten years ago.

And I suspect it's not about of a lack of awareness of the big picture, but all of this because it's the only way people will let you win an election. I also suspect that they say to themselves, well, it's better for the people than letting the other guy win. That in turn is just because we the people - the vaulted voice of democracy, the foundation of freedom - no longer have the rules such that good people who stand up for the right things in tough moments may lose an election with honor and but be honored in history as a winner for sticking to principle. We the people prefer to forget them because they said something unpopular even though it may have been right. And if we applied the same principle to schools, the biggest kid gangster would run the Principal's office.

Today we have the heroes of what's left, instead of the heroes of what could, and should, be. We shouldn't elect someone just because he has exactly the same ideas as us. We had better elect someone because his or her ideas are better than ours, because that's the prerequisite of leadership. A good leader standing for elections should show the electorate the path forward, especially if that path is difficult. Instead what we get are leaders who make you sit down on the road and have a picnic, and subconsciously tell us how beautiful we are because we act just like them.

Which is fine, until the SUV comes round the bend and rolls over us both.

We weren't always like this. We had Onn Jafaar. And Tunku Abdul Rahman. They were great in achievements, but man, history showed how they absolutely magnificent they were in defeat.

Mullings on the Edge

Note: opinionated article ahead. Sail with caution.

Not too long ago I was having a conversation with a couple of African American friends, one of whom was adamant that Barack Obama may be fine in ideas – but just don’t call him black. This has of course been in the realm of the media for some time, with some considering that his mother is white, others saying that his childhood in Indonesia and his schooling in Ivy League institutions didn’t give him the same perspective as most blacks. I knew I was in dangerous ground – but then again, I didn’t have “white guilt” either, and so I ventured a query: Barack’s mother is a white American, and his father is from Africa, so doesn’t that by definition make him an African American? And if we trace back every black person in America, wouldn’t everyone – including everyone in that room on that day – end up coming from Africa?

There was a brief silence. Then another friend of mine spoke up.

“I dunno about the rest of you came from, but I’m from Oklahoma.”

Everyone cracked up.

History is a funny thing. We tend to place the idea of historical fact as cold, empirical, as symbolically as it is often literally carved into stone. We like the idea that there’s precedent we can trust, that somehow we derive the wisdom of the ages if we take time to understand The Art of War. But in most cases, the use of history ranges from an extension of passive-aggressive tendencies to downright wishful – and I daresay, fraudulent – thinking. The American far right reach for the Quran not to better understand why there is an increasing cultural gap between Muslims those who cling to a Judeo-Christian lineage, but to find ammunition for their already unchanging perceptions. The same has been done – by Radio Television Malaysia during my schooldays – in comparing that religious text with the Bible. Palestine and Israel are both selective about whose birthright the land extols, and there’s never a Judean around when you need one. Not too long ago, a certain Japanese textbook put forward a controversial interpretation of World War II, and revisionist historians now put into consideration the application of the atomic bomb not to end that same war, but to show the Russians that they had the capability and willingness to blow things up. The President of Iran doesn’t believe that the Holocaust existed, and the President of the United States probably doesn’t believe that dinosaurs existed.

And the fundamental issue that underpins racial relations in Malaysia is who got there first. Hindraf. The “political tsunami”. Open tenders instead of the NEP in Penang. And let’s not forget the political hotspots of Sabah and Sarawak, whose residents just might be a little less edgy [dare I say, jumpy?] if it weren’t for a little voice in the background that reminded them that they were very first Malaysians and what the heck are these Peninsula people doing mucking around here.

On one level I get it, but on another that doesn’t entirely make sense to me. My brain, those who know me will assure you, is an elevator stuck between two floors – if you want a consistent conversation with me, it’s best we take the stairs. The part that doesn’t quite jell is that the concept of the past doesn’t quite relate to my present the way it seems to for a great many others. Maybe it’s because my family genealogy has a little twist of humour to it. In the 1970s, someone decided to find out the details of our past, and we came across an impressive kilt design, a coat of arms and the account of the last pure-bred Caucasian Filmer, who apparently was wearing a pince-nez on the battlefield of World War I, dropped it (what a surprise), and was shot dead looking for it. The family member who commissioned and reported the results of the historical search ended off with the note: “Rather daft, no?”

It’s a nice story. It’s got the authenticity of a coat of arms that you could hang on a place that’s difficult to dust, cultural apparel, and an ending that a Tales of the Unexpected Roald Dahl would have approved. And while I like to occasionally reminisce about a Welsh castle that my family once owned and that I’ve never seen (it gets better every time I think about it – the last I checked, it had a moat and satellite TV), little about it affects my present life, outside of using English as a primary language and having a thing about Western classical music. And well, I own a little harp, which is as Welsh as I get. Even with that – I heard none too long ago that the real origin of the harp was Egypt.

In almost every aspect of my life, I have been Malaysian from birth. My perspectives, no matter how Western-leaning they can be, are rooted and in relation to a Malaysian fulcrum. [And if my vocabulary might seem to suggest otherwise, I’d like to mention that the Malay word for fulcrum is “fulkrum”]. Whether it be local or American politics, I just don’t get how one makes a determination about where a relative and selective history begins, and suddenly down the line we have a very contentious issue called affirmative action. I get that if a young student who is poor, he needs a bit of boost to play on a level playing field. What befuddles me is what difference it makes who his great-great-grandfather was, and if he lost his family fortune to the divide-and-conquer British. Does it make him any poorer than the kid next door whose great-great-grandfather lost his own fortune in the Boxer Revolution?

Put in another way – for a student, if you can’t start a test with an empty piece of paper and a working pencil, how fair is the test, and how well can you trust the results?

Let me put it this way. There was a joke during a debate about whether Bill Clinton, whose policies benefited the African-American community, was the first black president. To which Barack quipped somewhere along the lines of, “I’d have to check his dancing abilities before I can be sure that he is a brother.”

Somehow I think that that sounds fair. In respectfully disagreeing with some friends of mine, if we're wondering whether Barack is black, it matters more whether Barack can talk the talk and dance the dance, than whether his great-great-granddaddy did a rain dance on the plains of the Sahara. Whoever wrote the lines for Kungfu Panda had it just right: “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift – that’s why they call it the present.”

They say those of us who don’t learn from our history are doomed to repeat it. I say, we have to learn what history is first, or we’re doomed to never have anything worth repeating to others. Some story that history would be.

The Problem with Flab

The problem with governments announcing that they're cutting fat is that, well, they admit that they're fat. And worse, that they've been that way for a while. So, when the Malaysian government announces the following steps:

• 10% cut in entertainment allowances of ministers and deputy ministers
• Halting the production of special attire made specifically for functions
• Restricting paid holidays for ministers and deputy ministers to ASEAN and local destinations, and limiting paid holidays to one week
  

and in doing so, cutting some RM2 billion in costs, I tend to see it - and I think many others do as well - that:

• Why are government officials getting entertainment allowances from RM6,000 to RM18,865 a month?
  
• Why have federal revenues been going into making clothes for VIPS?
• Paid holidays? First of all, are you kidding? And secondly, it means that before this government officials have been taking over a week on international vacations on the taxpayers bill. So much for promoting local tourism.
• Why save 2 billion when you can save 20?
  

On the matter of holidays, one might say that the new measures will boost domestic tourism, which is a fair point. The only problem with that is that making them limit vacations to the area seems to be a concession rather than an incentive. Not to mention that, once again, they are paid vacations to begin with. As for entertainment allowances, fair points are also made that this allocation has two goals: 1. to provide salaries competitive to those in the private sector to encourage public service, without overburdening the amount on pensions, and 2. as an allocation for lunches with fellow diplomats, guests to the country, that sort of thing. There are complications though - first of all, let's look at Singapore, which has been known to have the highest salary in the world for a head of government. The intention is not just to have a competitive rate - the Prime Minister is also forbidden by law to take part in business ventures to ensure impartiality. The dichotomy between the government and commercial sectors does not exist in that fashion in Malaysia. As for lunches and guest treatment, I do think that it is reasonable that if Steve Jobs should visit Malaysia one should treat him well in hopes of promoting investment. But if the government is already footing the bill in some other form, every single remaining dollar in entertainment allowance should be returned, especially since this additional allocation is around three times the usual salary of a new member of the workforce with a degree.

A real example of leadership would be trying on the shoes of the people. Pay for your own vacations. Claim your governmental expenses, but pay for your own entertainment. Pay for the petrol wouldn't be an extra - it should be a must. And, though I haven't been a traditional DAP supporter, maybe just fly economy like some people we know.


[On a side note: oddly enough, I used to like the previous Chief Minister, Dr Koh Tsu Koon. Until it came out that he claimed credit for the previous state governments work producing results today - but when asked how the new DAP-led government is doing, said, "It is the people's fighting spirit and global economic conditions that determine how we perform - not so much the government." Without seeing a bit of a contradiction there.]

In the final analysis when it comes to the federal government's so-called cost-cutting measures, average Malaysians will be looking at this in the light of "If you think this is sacrifice, then you really don't understand what we are going through." A certain American President who didn't know the price of milk knows a thing or two about this. He got elected promising, "Read my lips - no new taxes!" and departed the office saying "It's the economy, stupid."

There was taxi driver on TV who said that the fuel increase has forced him to "wash my face, kiss my wife and go back to work" because he couldn't earn enough to cover costs. He is somehow unlikely to take the idea of paid vacations of his leaders as an example of being "thrifty in these difficult times". And the expectation that he would is more likely to be salt in the wound than a sign of empathy. For all of us.

The Fuel of Discontent

I find it continually curious how Malaysian and American politics relate. The price of fuel in Malaysia goes up by some 30 percent, and the main differences are that we call it petrol and they call it gas.... Also, we for some reason never take polls on federal approval ratings - and yet have 100-day report cards on the new opposition-led state governments.

Americans have a more... shall we say standardized way of looking at price increases. The Republicans are known to be for tax cuts (more so for the rich, which they argue keeps money out of foreign bank accounts) and Democrats are said to be more for federalism, "big government", using increased taxes for federal projects. Malaysians don't really have that sort of distinction, but if they were asked, they'd probably opt for lower prices all round.

This is not because of a more conservative bent, though on the social front that tends to be the case. The argument that a decrease of subsidies underlines the fact that the government is still helping (rather than a cancellation of subsidies or a tax on the same substance) never seems to hold much water - or in this case, gasoline - because the people's perspective is never linguistically based. You can call it what you want, but the point is that the government of yesterday protected us more than the government of today.

A related myth is that we shouldn't forget the help that the government continues to provide - subsidies on flour and rice seem to be favourite targets. Sorry, but there are two flaws in this plan - first of all when the government helps the people it's not extra credit, it's what they were hired to do, and to do well. The second is where you think the money for subsidies comes from - the pockets of individual members of Parliament? It comes from our own pockets, our taxes, our natural resources. We don't elect people to give us their own money, we elect people to manage our money. Let's not forgot that we are actually an oil-producing country.

The idea of big or small government on which Americans tend to place some limelight is not as boxed and labeled in Malaysia. But the bottom line is the same - it doesn't matter whether it's big or small, it matters instead whether it's effective or not. The primary principle is no different than putting money in a fixed deposit or in any investment portfolio. Yes, there's an element of security. But the main idea is that the interest rate is higher than it would be if I used it myself. Otherwise I'd change banks. Or keep in it in my own pocket.

The government can place the price of fuel at whatever price it feels fit - even add a tax as the Americans do. Whether people will be happy is entirely dependent on whether you spend that investment in a way that is more effective in terms of economies of scale than it would be in the hands of individuals. If somehow the government managed to use the additional funds in a way that the overall effect of costs and conditions of living outweigh the burden of fuel price increases, the people will accept, the people will believe. If prices go up and there doesn't seem to be anything on the other side of the scale, people these days tend to notice. When we disagree with a 30 percent increase, it's not that we disagree with big government - we disagree with an inefficient one.

That's why I think the Malaysian equivalent of a simultaneous stimulus package makes absolutely no sense. No sense whatsoever. We are given either a rebate or a decrease in road tax depending on the vehicle you drive. But both of these don't begin to offset the fuel price increases - which means that the original amount of fuel increase was probably around 25 percent, and 5 more was tagged onto it so you could have a rebate or a decrease in road tax. It's just like stores increasing prices and then giving you a lesser discount - you end up paying more, and the store gets to put the item "for sale".

The ripple effects have already appeared with prices of everything - transportation and food being topmost - increasing. If anything it is shocking that the penchant for hot air is not limited to politicians but is shown with adept skill by the commercial sector. Quoting the new price of lorry transportation charges at 14 sen a kilometer, the focus of Johor Lorry Operators Association Leow Hock Tiap is that the Road Transport Act has a maximum of 15 sen. It's called diversion - away from the fact that the increase of charges between 40 to 60 percent is far above the increase in fuel charges. Even if the increase was equivalent to the increase in diesel rates it would still be a scam, because the price of fuel is not the only contributor to transportation costs. What it is is taking advantage during a vulnerable situation, hoping that the focus of discontent at the government will obscure their own shenanigans.

The people who take public transport are screwed the most. The government increases fuel prices by 30 percent. Buses will probably increase prices by at least 30 percent - though technically the amount should be less. And finally, since they take public transport, they don't get a rebate, unless they own a car which they choose not to use in order to take the bus. Which may be the way we are all headed.

Plus, what do you wanna bet (as Malaysians tend to say), that the price of your lunch will go up in a similar fashion? If it goes up 30 percent, the only way to justify such an increase is if you're literally drinking oil. This for me is the greatest tragedy of the entire affair: while the government's inability to continue to preserve a quality of life causes them to take dollars from your right pocket, instead of standing by in solidarity as a fellow citizen, your neighborhood food seller uses the hoo-ha to take cents from your left.

From Oh Wow to What Next: Malaysia's Foremost Question

Look carefully and see the tear gas cannisters lobbed
back at the Federal Reserve Unit.

The opposition has made a landmark and unprecedented victory in the 2008 Malaysian elections. This is a surprise to jaded and politically apathetic citizens like myself, and the pundits and analysts will have a field day deciding how it happened - whether it was the return of Anwar Ibrahim to the political scene, a marginalization of the poor or increased racial tensions. Malaysians over the years have shown that the majority are willing to concede much - equal standing of all Malaysians, and imprisonment without trial - so long as they have a basic minimum of being more or less left alone. Malaysians have a traditionally high level of inertia and don't get inspired easily to make changes. But get them frustrated enough to get off their seats and you never know what can happen. Either that basic minimum has not been met, or the Malaysian people have decided that the bar is finally too low.

The real question for me will be how the next few years unfold. This summer I will be returning home to a state run by a completely different government which I've never experienced in my life. Politicians will move from offices in small converted homes and shoplots to the towering government building in the centre of Georgetown.

Many things can happen. The Democratic Action Party now in control of the state of Penang has a unique opportunity to prove not only that it can run a government fairly and efficiently, but to be the bigger person in treating the new opposition with the kind of fairness that it so rarely received. Eyes will be on areas like Bayan Lepas, won by Umno to see if the DAP government treats them with a fairer hand than the way the federal government has treated opposition-held Kelantan.

If the DAP government is smart, it will take the high ground to and use Penang as a showcase of how a Malaysian Malaysia might look. In doing so, they would gain the ability of increasing their national wins not simply out of a discontent with the Barisan Nasional, but out of real credibility and proven achievements. Getting back at old scores will only destroy any future chances of success... underscoring the idea that all politicians are essentially the same.

It's easy to see how to fix some things, like crazy development ideas that would scar the face of the island, or better treatment of racial minorities. It's also easy to see areas where one can help without having to be anti-incumbent - like the incredibly congested traffic. It's far more complicated to see how things will be for government projects that actually do work - like the Penang State Symphony Orchestra or perhaps Tourism Penang. The challenge truly is starting with distrust and frustration, and transforming that to trust and inspiration. There is cause for hope: the DAP as a whole has had the moral advantage of supporting government motions in Parliament when they make sense, a favour not returned. Now that the DAP takes the role of government, the people will look to see if gaining power has changed that at all.

There was a charge for change.
The change is here.
Now comes the time to see what change really means.

The Cultural Smile of the Mona Lisa Guile

The whale never feels like a fish until it's beached.

There are those from places like Malaysia and Singapore who come to places like America and find what they may have found missing, and in many cases that translates to a freer debate of issues, and a different plate of issues. I think the fascination that people like myself find interesting in following American politics is not really rooted in the issues of NAFTA or universal health care. Rather it is the whole concept of confrontation that is not only permissible but the driving force of campaigns. The candidates know that contesting ideas - or at least the image of it - drives the media, in turn because the media know that's what drives viewers, and the advertising dollars that follow. What the actual ideas are may be important to an intellectual few, but to the majority I suspect the real charm is in an intellectual - or better yet, unintellectual - feud.

Malaysians may have due cause to resent a stifled media perching dangerously towards incumbents. But might I suggest a proposal that it is not simply the two-dimension hegemony of those in control popular among our professors but an extension of our culture. Direct confrontation is quite simply not the way we do things. Most of us have a inbuilt sense of something which one could characterize in that most interesting of ala-Freudian oxymorons: we're passive-aggressive.

We're not used to the in-your-face kind of resolution. Even if you are right and you go direct, you lose coz you're rude. Do this if you're right and white, and we'll comfortably bash a perceived Western arrogance... all at our local McDonald's.

And that's why watching Obama and Hillary bash it out is as attractive as it is. As contradictory as it sounds, it's like someone who is lactose intolerant getting vicariously satisfied by watching others overdose on milk.

But you see, up to this point in my commentary you may have noticed a rather self-depreciating tone. That's because we have the reach second Asian gene defect: we're too obsessed with our defects. There is pleasure in victimhood, perhaps out of a certain twisted sense of exaggerated humility. The side effect is that the "Malaysia Boleh!" theme was always had an empty ring compared to the almost linguistically identical "Yes we can!" of Obama. Let's face it, we revel in the sour, pessimistic tone, and if the Americans exported their politicians, Malaysians might even get over any subconscious sexism to vote in a Prime Minister Hillary.

Our Malaysian politicians know this, I suspect, despite the wildly popular Lim Kit Siang-Rafidah Parliment spats on YouTube. The pro-incumbent position is not really about the peace and stability that they may have achieved - but the hidden message of instability and unlawfulness that may occur if they are not returned to power. And on the other hand we might note that the DAP message is not what one would change to, but what one should change from.

But there's hope for us yet.

We may be passive-aggressive, but there is a certain charm in the indirect way we deal with things. It may indeed be less effective in the boardroom or the classroom - and in this latter example I am having a surprising education in recent days. Nonetheless, the avoidance of direct conflict comes not only from a presumption that I don't have to tell someone right in his face that he has wronged others. The underlying foundation of this very Asian presumption is a compliment to this person: that he has the intelligence to read between the lines and think about what he may have done without one having to spell it out for him. Aha, you say, therein lies the problem. Because that person may not have that said intelligence. Indeed, as Jeeves would say, that is a fly in an otherwise unsullied stew.

It is in this vein that that being exported from my original petri dish has brought out some pride in the way that Malaysians interact. I honestly do believe that while direct confrontation may at times be expedient, subtlety has its charm, its time, and its place - and half of that charm lies within the intellectual prerequisites of subtlety. There's a certain bond that is created over time from indirect communication, in the same way that talking your plants improves their health, and eventually yours. At the very least, and despite its admitted faults: if a Malaysian confronts one in the face, one can distinguish that it's serious.

The whale never feels like a fish until it's beached.

But that's why we have faith in changing tides.

Tick That Box

Not too long ago, one of the campus newspapers, the IUSB Vision, put forward a controversial editorial asking whether ignorant people should be allowed to vote. It's been an idea I've been fond of for some time, especially when you see how waves of rural uneducated voters of any country are so easily swayed to one side or the other without taking the time to look at the whole picture objectively.

There are of course problems with the idea - the one that comes to my mind the quickest is that if political awareness is a criteria for eligibility, then it logically makes sense that a scale exists which provides higher voting power to people who keep themselves better in the know. Or to cut it short: political science professors should have a hundred times more voting weight than the voter who doesn't even know the name of the candidate. This becomes a situation which doesn't carry democratic credentials - reminding us that a democracy places above all else the voice of the majority of the people, not the majority of the IQ.

As Winston Churchill famously said, "Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time."

A counterargument can be made when we consider the eligibility test for those seeking American citizenship - basically making civic knowledge a prerequisite to gaining the right to vote. The reason why those born in the country do not require the same test is an presumption that the education system through subjects like social science, as well as involvement in the community as a whole, gives enough knowledge to make up for this prerequisite. But if you ever should be interested to put this to the test, just ask the next American you meet if he or she knows which US President served more than two terms.

As Malaysia goes to the polls, and I get back to reading some of the press, I once again have to ask myself whether it's healthy for some of these people to be ticking any box that doesn't commit themselves to a repeat of kindergarten education. Case in point: "Of hearts and minds" in The Star Online, where people of all political stripes show just how ignorant they are of the process they take such pride in participating. The article is basically a collection of two dozen selected viewpoints of the so-called "person on the street".

We start with the incumbents:

"I always vote for the Government. It is my way of expressing my gratitude."
– Minah Taib

First of all, unless there's an adjacent Malaysian Idol competition, everyone who goes to the polls is voting to elect our government. The question really is which to which party you're casting your vote. Plus, as I understand it, Parliament is dissolved and thus there is no real existing government you can vote for. You can't vote for a caretaker government And as for gratitude - I know this must be news to many, but your elected official does get compensation for his or her work. It's called a salary. And then some.

On to the opposing side:

"I have been a hardcore DAP supporter for the past 30 years, so it will be no different this election."
- K. Jayamohan

The key word here is "so", indicating that this person's rationale for voting is simply because of what he's used to doing. Being a supporter of a minority Opposition party, this brings forward two problems: 1. If everyone followed his rationale, his party would never win. 2. The DAP's new election motto is "Just change it". Now tell me, which box do I check for irony?

And while we're on the topic, what's up with this Americanization of Malaysian politics? The DAP's campaign slogan is a combination of Obama's "Change we can be believe in" and Coke's "Just do it." The Star's phrase of "hearts and minds" came from the original Iraq war campaign. And in the other lane, Obama's "Yes we can" smells suspiciously of "Malaysia Boleh".

Back to the voters. Even the undecideds annoy me:

"I am quite excited and will have to think very, very carefully on which party can look after the welfare of ordinary people like me. I will probably only decide on whom to vote for when I am inside the cubicle with a pencil in my hand."
–K. Shanthi

The point of thinking very, very carefully is to come to a very, very informed opinion. If you can't come to that conclusion, what makes you think your a pencil in your hand will make you make a right decision?

Of course it's easier to criticize than to have an opinion, and I'm thus charged with providing one. I confess, I've been keen about the idea of "undi rosak" - the "spoiled vote" that generally indicates a confused voter who does not know not to check more than one box. Think about it - if your political opinion is that both or all of the candidates are not up to the mark, how do you indicate it? We don't have the Thai system whereby if there isn't a quorum, the lack of public confidence renders the election invalid - an excellent idea, in my opinion. A spoiled vote can serve to mean a vote of no confidence in the slate of candidates - a different deal than just not voting in the existing system, because your spoiled vote goes to weaken the eventual winning percentage and in turn weakening the position of "I have the mandate of the people and I can do what I want."

When I mentioned this train of thought to one of my good friends here, there was a moment's pause. Followed by, "That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard about voting."

And in all fairness, can't say she doesn't have a point.