Monday, February 25, 2013

The Malay Male's Stigmata

"Don't get me wrong," she said. "I'm not a sexist or a racist or anything."

Oh, boy. Here we go. Disclaimers. The justification for being exactly what they disclaim to be.

"But Malay men are monkeys. They're stupid, rude and emotional and stupid. Did I mention stupid?"

"Yeah, you have a point," I said, flicking my lighter.

"Not all of them," she began. "Wait, what?"

"I said you have a point."

"Oh, okay."

And then she joined the crowd of elderly men trying to pick her up. She stole a few glances my way and despite having excellent peripheral vision, I made like George W Bush and didn't give a fuck.

Towards the end of the night, I found her sitting beside me again.

"Did I offend you?"

"With what?"

"My statement. It was just an observation. An opinion."

"Yes, I know. And I agree. We Malay men are collectively dumb and stupid. If we were smart, you'd all be our sex-slaves and normal slaves."

"You don't find it racially insensitive?"

"Look," I swiveled on the chair, even though it wasn't the swiveling type. "There's no such word as 'racial'. I know the dictionary has it, but the word you're looking for is either racist or race. Not racial. Fuck racial."

I began getting on my pulpit and lecturing her about 'racial'.

I've always hated the word racial. It's used for racist things when people want to show how they're not racist. Racial politics is just racist politics. 'He is a racialist?' it's actually 'He is a racist'. Fuck racial, racial makes racists sound like Jennifer Aniston.

"Haha. You're funny."

"I know."

"But is my statement offensive?"

"Was your statement offensive? I don't know. I don't care."

When I first got to KL, the white-worshipping culture of the KLITes have already condemned Malay men as  animals and rogues. Egotistical buffoons who have brains the size of monkey penises.

I am now much too old to try and change people's mindsets or to even care. Unless there's money involved.

"It's a sweeping generalisation, so I'm sorry for that."

"No need for apologies," I said, fingering the receipt and figuring whether I could deduct drinks from my taxes. Don't think I can.

"You're weird," she said.

"Sure I am."

She said the same thing the next morning, and my answer never changed.