AainaA

Humpty Dumpty Sat On The Wall
Humpty Dumpty Had A Great Fall
… and as the rhyme goes, it was obvious that Humpty Dumpty didn’t make it at all

Good Bloody Heavens! – the likelihood that the blasphemed anthill in the Minister’s backyard won’t either, seeing that the Minister himself had been dismissed by the Cabinet, and everyone in line for the project from the peon to the receptionist through the accountant to the CEO through the member of Parliament will have to tighten their purse strings and live frugal lives instead of keeping up with the Jones’ and the Maharanis of Pondicherry.

So it went apparently, an étrangère like me would perceive the notion of how things are being carefully planned, moving each pawn as if in a game of Chess, this is how the politics of things be them extraordinary or common, from the overlooking of poverty lines {politically speaking (of) the classes’ so to speak darling!} in the city up to the seemingly ‘wealthy’ dogs on credit – flashing opulent lifestyles, but beneath its collars are infested with fleas, and you know how with fleas these parasites, just seem to ravel in joy, for an eternity that never ends.

The Universe how measureless as it seems in the eyes of the trained savant, or the unrestrained scientist, is still limited as limited as the scope of thoughts crashing within skulls of inconscience.

The aftermath of the discussion between one and the other about how seemingly unsystematized the city is after an independence of some odd fifty years or thereabouts have seen how the minds of the so-called evolved long-sighted ministers weren’t after all over-sighted. Indeed, as if the Maharanis and the Chinese entourage of Hang Tuah, and Hang Li Po would at least have enticed those proclaiming the land theirs’ the very courage to have had at least planned the muddy islet from its beginning into a metropolitan city of grandeur that can only ravel beyond Paris, London or Shanghai – but unfortunately we do see that ‘insight’ being marred with short-term narrow-vision-ness and instead not having four lanes as wide for any two or ten Cessna to land simultaneously like one would see in Toshkent, instead see droves of little tin-can cars made in the country lining-up like little robotic sardines waiting to be emotionally drained on arrival at their destinations in bottle-necks coming from one bloody end to another without end.

It’s as if the bloody infrastructure is a never-ending urinary tract that never ends from the Kundalini base and instead of extending beyond, and up to the crown chakra, stays and moves about within the groin chakra, and throws a glance therein the pot pourri of decadence of orgies between the limited minds of the so-called infra-engineers that never bloody bothered with anything other than the crucial aspects of some quotidian common life,  the aspects of living beyond baseless engineering or theoratical formulaes!!

Malaysians simply love spending their lives on the roads – that Time is literally not of the essence in a land vying for super-sophistication of anything permissibly better than the contemporary regime blinding these learned and allegedly men of faith, knowing very well, that free-will and the willists of nature are nothing more than non-instruments of the one Power that governs the infestiminal system within their libertine nature as it is, not one node is bereft of the residual ‘waste’ that clung within a worm-hole, or path when wherein the darkness of ‘being’, this seemingly notch of thought – has become the standard for living, labeled as contortionists of conviction; or the very least, the seemingly ‘awakened’.

How so bloody limited are we that we hope to inspire within the hearts of the masses, that we can’t seem to bloody let ourselves be un-fettered with shackles and mindsets that we fail – oh utterly failed like wretched souls instead – we should, at best, as those we consider better-off than the plebeians the decency, to at least if not to ‘educate’ them beyond insult, implement strategies and undertake the responsibility as men of conviction and knowledge, the facility to make their lives less miserable, and ours’ more well-heeled.

In the most likelihood that one would be stranded without transport getting out of Ampang area on a Friday evening, after a short temperamental drizzle, from the point of no transference nor return, this other-end of the city to the other end of oblivion is en massed by a quadrillion little sardine can cars crawling bumper to bumper… and not one bloody empty cab would priviledge one the courtesy or pleasure to be driven out of the madness of transcients.

One would envision at least in the 21st century, a giant robotic circular arm with minor arms extending or at least on several layers, and levels transitionally transpotting or at least some 21st century automotive millipede storming its way between Ampang and its major nodes connecting each major station throughout the city, and surburbs, and stopping intermittently every ½ hour or fifteen minutes-rides at say 110MPH or less but not less than 5, and arriving at its destinations every ½ hour at peak zones at best – bloody hell, don’t we have the iron engineers to calculate how much it would cost to ensure the city is well {and I bloody meant WELL} connected not just in terms of names-dropping the bloody curry-puffs and whiskies to such-a-such member of the bloody Royal family through the decadence-dime-a-dozen Datuk, and Tan Sri-ships or politician therein the miniscule curried city of Kuala Lumpur – this joke of  having just two bloody tracks that neither meet perpendicularly, one jutting out to oblivion, the other to another worm-hole elsewhere like dessicated fractal grams completely slashed by the common beasts unseeingly endowed with intelligence is an utter insult for those that have lived their lives in well-connected European cities the likes of Copenhagen, Paris, London, or Berlin.

Good Bloody Heavens!

Even Lucifer would laugh both his heads off into an un-ending gloat of euphoric spasms, seeing how insipidly inane these supposedly greedy bastards are trying to make money out of nothing – surely it’d take nothing much to make billions of out nothing, but do ensure the magic carpet is well spread out to cover even the most clumsiest of semen clumps {pun intended!}. How long more – what measure of “Time” will it take for the engineers, the so-called minds of the nation, the seemingly yes-men nodding their heads like hens pecking earthworms in the mornings till another road-killer drives them or squashes them into chicken patties only to realize that each notch from the “then” to the “now” spent without concern for the betterment of the nation is less a few hundred-thousands in the coffers for retirement?

It doesn’t take a MIT degree to make things work in Malaysia. It only takes some common sense, and a willing to “change” for the better, if not for the bloody masses, at least for one’s bloody putrescence scheme of things!