This is further proof of PDRM (police) working with the porn peddlers - the light strike force escorting the Datuk Ts.There seems to be a lack of political will to apprehend the wrongdoers and now the porn peddlers are even brave enough to even put it on YouTube and other electronic media
.We are in a state of crisis and soon we will have more porn movies officially sanctioned to be screened in YouTube, exposing them to our children, and this culture will destroy our future generation Why should the BN government waste public money protecting these bunch of crooks?This Umno regime has dropped its pretension of religious piety that it is "Islamic" and acts as a "defender" of Islam. It approves the dissimination of the 'teaser' segments of the sex tape that were widely published and aired over the government TV channels as 'news.'The white strip in Thai with the Bangkok address is to show that Eskay had lied. Somebody in Thailand had uploaded in YouTube to tell the Malaysian public that the sex act was done in Thailand with Eskay, who looks like Anwar, as the actor.
It was done to frame Anwar. The second man in the video directed the act. The tape given to the police is not the only copy. Somebody had already made copies before Eskay gave it to the police.
The first and yesterday's upload was done in Thailand while the second was done by somebody who had the copy in Malaysia.
It stands by idly as the police 'investigates' the matter to death focusing on the actor in the tape, rather than prosecuting the trio for screening and distributing pornography.
Now, the full version of the tape containing explict acts are made available to the public. These moral derelicts are even dragging their smut into the mosque. Islam is dragged through the mud and brought into disrepute. The Islamic religious authorities are helpless spectators while Malaysians are subjected to nauseating obscenity and victimised by Umno's vile politics.
Right-thinking Muslims and Malaysians should unite and condemn this regime that is hurting and destroying our nation in pursuit of its selfish and evil ends.Umno claims that they are the defenders of the Malays. But what is happening today is a far cry of the Malays I know of yesteryears in which their graceful culture and piety seem to be the hallmark of the race.
The Malay culture that Umno is portraying today is one of filth, crudeness and sinfulness. If the Malays don't wake up to this fact, Malays as a race will soon be wiped out in no time and then it will be too late for them to salvage themselves.
I've spent the last 10 years living as a ghost. I write words that others claim as their own. I've had the opportunity to work with inspiring individuals and earn what I call "mini-Masters theses" in their areas of expertise. But let's be honest: this is not a profession little children dream of pursuing. I just happened into it.
Najib who is aware of what is going on is either powerless to stop this or he is actively encouraging this behind the scenes. Either way, it points to one fact: this country needs a real leader. We believe you, Mr Prime Minister, when you say that Umno and the government are not behind the swearing by Datuk Shazryl Eskay Abdullah yesterday.We can all squirm and cry and accuse the government of this, that and what-not. Nothing is going to change because we foolish voters are the ones to blame for putting incompetent politicians up there.The gist of the 'sexual' attack on Anwar is to make him too pre-occupied with court cases until he has little time left to strengthen Pakatan Rakyat.BN knows half of the Malays are now supporting Pakatan and it is an open secret that most non-Malays are supporters of the opposition. So the only way forward for BN is to get back the Malay votes in order to win GE13.Before elections we all turn coffee-shop politicians and demand for change. But on polling day, we sell our votes for as little as RM50. So bear with it and move on.
We believe you because it is every day in Malaysia that those out on police bail can call for press conferences or taunt the police and then have police protection to swear on the Quran in a mosque.
Last time it happened, was, oh gosh.... I can’t remember!
We believe you because every Ali, Gopal and Ah Chong can get Jawi officers to officiate at a swearing ceremony. The last time I checked, Jawi officials are employed by the government.
Yesterday, they facilitated Shazryl’s swearing on the Quran, which according to most Muslim religious experts is contrary to Islam. And they did it willingly, as a service to mankind.
But Mr Prime Minister, if you say that Umno and government are not involved, then we believe you.
We believe you, Mr Prime Minister, that Umno and the government are not involved in the swearing ceremony just like the government and Umno were not involved in when sodomy “victim” Mohd Saiful Bukhari Azlan swore on the Quran during the Permatang Pauh by-election.
Why shouldn’t we believe you, Mr Prime Minister?
It is every day that police and the authorities drag their feet in the so-called investigations and “allow” leakages of the porn video on YouTube and then feign ignorance. This, from a police force that locks up a man in order to get his DNA sample.
The fact of the matter is, there is only one master tape and police are clueless.
The Datuk Trio claim they are behind it but the police and Attorney-General’s Chambers are still “stumped”. Coincidentally, while the authorities are dragging their feet, the “Datuk T” trio are busy smearing muck on Anwar ibrahim and his family.
This is, of course, par for the course in Malaysian politics.
So yes, Mr Prime Minister, we believe you!
We would believe you more if you can focus on the economy and get it running, cut graft and give us what you promised when you took office — 1 Malaysia. People First. Performance Now.
All these shenanigans are affecting our faith a bit.
But, you know what, Mr Prime Minister, we still believe you!
It starts, as these stories often do, with my childhood. I am not blaming my parents, who provided me a loving and supportive home; it was merely a matter of circumstance. My brother, Derek, was only 19 months older than me, just one year ahead in school, and better than I was at everything. He was a better student: He earned straight As while I got the occasional B+. He was a better athlete: He made it to the state championships, while I barely earned myself a place on the JV track team. He was a better gamer: He beat me at every match of checkers and Monopoly we ever played. And, to add salt to my wounds, Derek also was a better person. More sensitive and compassionate, anyway. He cried when his fifth-grade classmates cruelly poured salt on the slugs he had been tending for Pet Care, killing them. I laughed.
Even my name placed me firmly in this second-place role. My parents were living in Taiwan at the time of my brother's birth, my father working as a U.S. Foreign Service officer. He and my mother learned Mandarin and hired a Chinese-speaking nanny. When I came along in Hong Kong the following year, the nanny and Derek took to calling me MeiMei, which means "little sister" in Mandarin. The nickname stuck, at my own insistence, my whole life.
The day I took off for Stanford at aged 17 1/2, was for me what the events of Tahrir Square earlier this year were to the Egyptians: liberation. I was free at last from the shadow of Derek's reputation, from teachers who would tell me, "You're not living up to your [meaning: your brother's] full potential." Away from my family, I could finally be MeiMei without being the little sister.
And that's precisely what happened. At Stanford, I was able to shine brightly, playing a supporting role to none. I expressed myself courageously, made friends easily and felt blissfully happy to be alive.
But then, somehow, I lost my way again. Not long after graduating, I went to work for the management consultancy firm McKinsey & Company. I felt intimidated, not as smart -- or at least not as skilled in creating Excel spreadsheets -- as my colleagues. A misfit. My self-esteem began to slip.
Yet I was still riding the coattails of my Stanford success. So I left consulting to pursue my dreams of being a writer. I co-authored and found a publisher for my first book, "Sexual Fitness." But at the same time, I met D. He charmed me with his easy wit, Southern preppie style, and success as an entrepreneur. The more I became involved with him, the more I let go of my own career dreams. Soon, I was playing second fiddle to D, just as I had done throughout my childhood with Derek.
And so, when a publishing mentor asked me if I'd like to ghostwrite for a living, it seemed like a perfect fit: I would be another's voice. I didn't need to be in front of the audience, promoting the book. I was content to do the nitty-gritty work of choosing the words, rearranging the sentences, bringing other people's ideas to life on the computer screen.
Then, six years ago, I noticed that I'd become a ghost not only in my professional career, but also in my personal life. D was running the show in our marriage, making all the rules. He demanded that we have an open relationship. He told me that he wasn't ready for kids and didn't know when he would be. I tried and tried, through individual and couples counseling, to find a compromise. But when I realized that he wasn't going to change, I found some of that college-MeiMei courage. I left.
The years that followed were crushing. I felt unworthy of existing on this planet. I felt I'd failed. Yet it was precisely this failure that set me free. Now that I was no longer Derek's sister or D's wife, I was forced to confront the question: Who am I? And what I found -- through therapy, yoga, meditation, poetry and spiritual books, and many long conversations with friends -- was that I am me. The MeiMei I was at Stanford: unapologetic, brash and full of zest for life.
Now it is time for me to speak with my own voice. To say what I have to say out loud. To, as the inimitable Walt Whitman put it, "sound my barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world." It's time for me to free myself from the supporting role of ghostwriter. I'm ready to write under my own name, to call myself an author.
It's easy to live in the shadow of another, offering yourself up as the helpmate, the assistant, the midwife. So many of us travel this path. Why? I think it's because doing so frees us from taking responsibility for our own lives. You have an excuse for not being the fully expressed version of yourself: You were putting your children's interests first. You had to move because of your spouse's job. Your boss asked you to stay late, so what choice did you have?
Well, I'm here to tell you from experience that that's no way to live your life, offloading the burden of your choices onto other people's shoulders, hiding behind their greatness. I'm done with that, and I hope you are, too. Come join me on my journey as I learn, once and for all, how to speak confidently with my own voice. Together, we'll cast off the chains of our self-doubt and stand proudly in the spotlight. Welcome to the Life Out Loud
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