I committed myself to exile in 1998 and have since earned a PhD in resourcefulness. Along the way Islam crystallized the essence of humanity’s circumstances and guided my aspirations towards a dais of certainty if not professional or academic success; a combination of experiences which constitute knowledge few can justifiably weigh. And as I read E.W. Said’s Reflections on Exile — for the second time (he’s worth more) — the word ‘exile’ resurrected in favor of destiny rather than fate and became differentiated from the latter by my conscious proactive attendance to divine guidance — another matter few can discuss meaningfully.
Though my exodus bore the appearance of volition, an opposing force carried most contemporaries on tides of well orchestrated chaos. I had hoped to flee the occult effectors and ‘sheeple-like’ victims of this post-modern tsunami but became encompassed by man’s typical encumbrances and soon discovered that false hope panderers and sheeple-food addicts had landed earlier to preclude nearly all of my aspirations.
Being in foreign fields of plentiful human variety, my experiences were never incomprehensible until I confronted the Malay Mystique—a veil they perhaps even take pride in weaving. Nevertheless, the ‘Muslim’ descriptive failed to identify this tribe’s brown skinned sahibs who soon became a challenging nemesis; especially as I searched for footing amongst a mass of ‘believers’ who clung to their fate-filled impediments. They actually appeared to be resolutely committed to destructive behaviors—the chief of which was pretense.
The Islam I discovered in my initial review of Muslim literature was nowhere found amongst a people dedicated to the sanctimonious engagements that justify camp-follower inertia: an incumbent quality of soul that permeates people resigned to both fate and handouts. Everywhere were slogans, meetings, seminars, books, banquets, fine houses, gilded mosques, papers and VIP speeches, but little evidence of the proactive innovations that would appropriately meet the challenges presented by their apposite pilgrims: the Chinese, Hindus and generic tribes of the Anglo-American-Goodonya coalition of the willing-to-assimilate-everyone-who-submits-or-else. This solipsistic posture of my mystifying host caused me personal concern because I naturally developed sentiments that justifiably claimed a non-empathetic antipathy that seemed to challenge my new found identity as a Muslim.
I longed to escape the milieu that accompanies those who wait for God to do what they should be doing in order to justify their non-extant ascendance only to discover they weren’t waiting for God at all; these non-pro-active Muslims were in massive metaphysical queues waiting for government largess from the hands of brown sahibs with bigger bellies. Their obstinate denial syndrome had been carefully nurtured by a failing government program of handouts and un-Islamic deference to race and title rather than merit and character.  I met larcenous Ali’Babas, effete camp followers and incompetent academics galore with qualities that justified the malice held by the several tribes who correctly despise such left-handed roguery in folk pretending to be God’s agent of agencies. On contemplating the ubiquitous dilemma, I looked again and saw Muslims submitted to fellows who said “Look East” while offering Red Carpets to professionally occult ‘assimilators’ from the Western Sunrise. ”
In twelve years I witnessed the purging of an entire group of SE Asian cultures in favor of by-gone shadows for the sake of tourist mammon, white buffaloes  and Lady Gaga sympathizers. With the exception of few communities, authentic players vanished from the geography along with primary jungles—fading from the map in favor of consumerism’s mud-slide. But I also noticed that, unlike their counterparts and despite good intention, the Malay suffered a greater desertification of spirit by preferring ritual to substance as they clung to the pretense of superiority, even over their cousins in Indonesia whose maids and men servants they routinely abuse with the impunity of big bellied Arabs.
The authentic dignity I had read about in the Muslim literature — that which engendered the humble ethos of the prophet’s companions — was noticeably absent except for a few stolid, salt–of-the-earth types with true grit. Nevertheless, I did find the bona fide dominion of divinely guided folkways across the social strata of other cultures facing the same assimilating annihilation.
Instead of engendering a forest of individually watered trees, I watched Malay leadership re-plant medieval dependency by irrigating and fertilizing a kind of stunted, metaphysical scrub brush that fills next-generational fields with compliant camp followers hooked on McDees and Star Search. The newly assimilated poppets of consumerism actually look toward Sunway Pyramid pastures while millions of hectares of their birthright’s bio-diversity are reduced to the sterility of palm oil servility and ever dwindling fish stocks. This negligence of nature’s heterodoxy belied an insular worldview—that of the same reductionism that birthed Chernobyl’s and Fukushima’s barter of renewable resources for a few decades of ease: those money making murder wonders that exchange a few years of profit for eons of death, even as leadership openly proposes something called sustainability–a phenomenon for which few have any clear comprehension. The devolution of this monetized mentation is dressed in meaningless words like ‘development’, ‘progress’, ‘2020’, etc., by so-called ‘protector’s of authentic faith’. I weep over this from time to time. It’s something exiles do.
I realized within two years of my conversion (2005) that the identitarian consciousness that marked the caliphate of the ummah of Mohammad is all but lost to intangible imaginations. This discouraging reality indelibly marks the continuum of my sojourn and though I spend little energy on its devotion, I mention it ‘lest an entire generation morphs into herds of the self-righteous vulgarity that now marks Western assimilators.
The present pool of Malay innocents suffers mindlessness, murder and sundry other molestations in schools that defer the child’s realization of helplessness until the graduate is dumped on Islamic banksters, surly Sultans, and sundry other fraudsters. The leavened lumps of these un-employable, lust-filled apostles of self-destruction soon confront perfectly capable, practically educated and relatively non-religious minded neighbors who despise them the whole time they chant ‘One Malaysia’. These latter are happy competitors who actually enjoy what prosperity their leaders, British, Chinese and sundry other masters have left behind. While sixty-per-cent of the GNP is deposited abroad; thirty per-cent is retained by the local elite, leaving ten percent for the advancing mob of incompetents and foreign workers who comprise nearly 80% of the twenty-five to thirty million populace.
On re-examination, and true to my knowledge of history, I found our apostles of self-destruction eating the superstition of Bomoh (Shaman) puddings, quasi-Sufi delights, patriotic pantomimes and Crusader cuisine along with traditional carte blanche overindulgence. Like most assimilated indigenes, the Malay outstrips even the Caucasian penchant for disease ridden lifestyles and neurotic obsessions that lead to obesity, cancer, diabetes, heart disease, strokes, drug abuse (legal and not), as well as dysfunctional relationships, families and skyrocketing divorces rates (pushing 70%) along with their advancing pool of single mothers. However, the most malignant heart disease I’ve diagnosed so far is a combination of sanctimony with both ignorance and denial; characters I find more distasteful than well educated hypocrites.
Their Western enemies praise this society as a “Model Islamic State”—so said Madame Clinton during her 2011 visit to KL. But how does this unpleasant portrayal of a disintegrating culture act as muse to my exiled sojourn as the ugly American? Allegorically it fertilizes and digs about the roots of my prose and pose as writer and critic; acting as catalyst to ignite fuel for thought and even action. I actually hope a few floundering foundlings from the Malay-poppet generation might read this and get angry enough to do something positive like not saluting a flag dedicated to champions of their assimilation.
Having lived through the post-WWII US cultural degradation under Zionist controlled media, as an elder ‘Baby Boomer’ I readily recognized the similar processes taking place in SE Asia. During this lifetime, the present group of Malay retirees lost Singapore, Penang, the Genting Highlands and not a small percentage of their sons and daughters to whoredom, full-blown Secular Humanism, as well as gambling and other forbidden delights of Satan. One of the Muslim working girls actually confessed she was financing her brother’s education at a religious school and that her favorite clients were Malay because they required a minimum of time and effort which effectively raised her profit margin. That’s how bad it is. Adding these natural outcomes of corruption in high places to the anti-authoritarian posture of all youth movements—i.e., CIA psy-ops–including Patani (Southern Thailand) and Arab Spring—you’ve got a pre-scuttled boatload of false expectations coming to an end; which actually is a good thing. After all, who can argue that God’s judgment is bad?
It would be difficult to call this the decline of the Malay Empire as there’s never been one of indelible note. And I would expect that a rise in national status and autonomy would have stood somewhere above the corn in history’s field, especially after Islam’s revelation. But a quasi-Sufi Mysticism seems to have taken the front row of pre-occupation in these lands, and much to the delight I’m sure of the Occidental sahibs arriving not long afterwards bringing opium, canon and the Protestant work ethic along with Catholic slavers and Jesuit foxes. So, for maybe two or three hundred years Malays had a chance to leave the mire of pretense and actually do something beside finally contributing an astronaut to someone else’s starship or hosting the grand prix for Iblissian elites while promoting golf course accommodations in true mimicry of their oppressors.
The question remains however—that is, for believers only—would the Prophet of Islam share the lime-lights of this success or would he shun both it and its promoters; especially considering the working girls and tall buildings he predicted would accompany the arrival of global demise?
This Euro-Centric Babel marks the Semite stench of Talmudism for cogent observers of braying jackass Jews over their goy heads. To the Freemasonic Twin Towers of Petronas the latter lots run like so many cattle branded by riba (usury) and the sanctioned mis-education born in the Freudian B’nai ‘Brithian halls of Britain’s Tavistock.  Effectively, they’re becoming exiles in their own land, set apart from the reality they pretend to worship by the pathetic pandering to consumerism’s appetite and Shylock’s cunning hand. The falsely hoped for messiahs cannot deliver such dupes from their exquisitely rendered servitude to shamans of sin. I saw the same thing happening to Americans years ago. — That’s why I left.
SEE: “The Malay Dilemma Revisited,” by Bakri Musa, who argues that the program has created a “subsidy mentality,” where sons of the soil have come to expect free education abroad, a slot in the civil service and heavily subsidized housing and car loans. Public universities, which are required to reserve at least 60 percent of their openings for natives, produce substandard graduates, Mr. Bakri argues, while the quotas cause anger and resentment among minority “immigrant” races. Mr. Bakri quotes a former education minister, Najib Razak, as saying that if students were admitted to public universities on merit alone, natives (Malays) would make up just 5 percent of undergraduate student bodies — a fact, he asserts, that shows major deficiencies in the country’s secondary school system.
For the past three decades the Malaysian government has presided over a massive experiment in social engineering, an affirmative-action program designed to lift out of poverty the children of millions of rice farmers and rubber tappers, molding them into a white-collar elite.
“It was the deliberate creation of an oligarchy,” said Shahrir Samad, a member of the governing party’s top decision-making body who has become an outspoken critic of the native leadership. “There was this idea that the economic success of the country depended on entrepreneurial giants.” Malays, who make up about half of the population, are the country’s largest native ethnic group.
Nurtured by the government for years, these hand-picked captains of industry are today deep in debt and running unprofitable businesses that rely on government largesse. The country’s native leaders are faced with the decision of whether to bail them out or let them sink — and thus liquidate the very symbols of native enterprise.
“The entrepreneurs were supposed to handle the creation of Malay wealth,” Mr. Shahrir said. “In fact, it’s been a subversion of Malay wealth.”
The most recent example of large-scale corporate failure came two weeks ago when a native businessman, Tajudin Ramli, was bailed out by the government. Mr. Tajudin, an accountant and the son of a farmer, was entrusted with the management of Malaysia Airlines in 1994. Malaysia’s political leadership spoke glowingly of how a man from such humble beginnings could rise to become the chairman of an important regional airline. But Mr. Tajudin, who is a protégé of the country’s current finance minister, Daim Zainuddin, had no previous experience running an airline, and analysts say he ran it into the ground. Today, Malaysia Airlines faces its fourth straight year of losses and is deep in debt.
Read more: Criticism of 30-Year-Old Affirmative-Action Policy Grows in Malaysia By Thomas Fuller Published: January 5, 2001, NY Times
There is a big problem with racism in Malaysia, it’s mostly in the sense of positive racism and the ‘Bumi’ status (cheaper houses, lower interest rates, easier acamedic lives and so on).. Malay folks get many easy breaks and advantages solely based on their race, which in turn makes them lazier as they aren’t required to work so hard as the other races to acheive the same thing. The sad thing is the policy was a good one initially, it’s just too out of date now and it’s doing more bad than good..
The Tidak Apa attitude still prevails, mostly born from the all the easy breaks the Bumi’s get, from the education system, through into the work place. The civil service in Malaysia is a joke and many mostly Malay companies are the same, they work short hours, do little work and when you expect them to do some work they do everything to get out of it. Mostly it’s not their fault, it’s the systems fault, the government, the establishment, the society, the culture…not the individual, but every individual could work to change it, but due to the problem itself, they wont.
Most of the talented people in the country leave, because of this exact problem, the smart Malays have two options, they can use their skills abroad, do something interesting, exciting, innovative, or stay in Malayia, learn to abuse the system and their family ties and make shit loads of money.
Many of the late twenties Chinese also go overseas to earn more, and have qualms about coming back, an interesting E-mail was posted on Jeff Ooi’s blog recently.
As I read all this, I tremble with fear. I love my country and long to return. I am willing to take a 70% pay cut. I am willing to face a demotion. I honestly want to contribute my expertise in complex financial services and capital markets. But really, is there a future for me, for my children and for their children? I am truly frightened.
I can deal with the lack of democracy, the lack of press freedom, the ISA, our inefficient and bureaucratic civil service, our awful manners and even a little corruption. But I cannot deal with racism in my homeland.
May 31st, 2005, by ShaolinTiger
 A term used to describe elder white men being used as ATM’s by young Asian women, especially Thai girls.
 See The Hand of Iblis for a dissertation.