Due diligence? Nah, we’ll take the cars
By Patrick Ferrari
Lard, have mercy. Just as we saw off one motormouth, Captain Gerry Gouveia of Dynamic Airways fame, of Argyle airport opening fame, of Valentine’s Day gift of a pile of Cuban shoppers’ fame, another motormouthing foreigner has hit our shores. Stanley Too, an undisciplined, unpolished Malaysian, he is here. What Too is up to, other than expressing an interest, is not clear. Let me tell Too a thing about interest: Judging from she picture, I am interested in jumping his boss. A goodish bit. Here she is; doing she own jumping — through hoops — defending the integrity her company. Or what there is of it.
Too said he spent “more than 12 months” studying the eastern Caribbean, deciding who to hit first. Dear God, he chose we. Uh oh. Then again, so did Dr. Aldo Rolla of Ottley Hall fame; William Wise of Ratho Mill hotel fame; and Dave Ames of Massa fame. Where are they now? Wherever, I hope Too ends up there too. And soon, too. Before he, too, is allowed to do what they did. What have we done to attract these types? They must see us as some sort of a shelter for scammers. I left out the impermanent Gouveia because he was a harmless patsy; a prop for a show.
The showboating Malaysian. In a lecture (listen here) delivered to the police brass — and her smugness, Rene Baptiste — the know-all, obnoxious, pompasetting foreigner was wheedling and disrespecting and patronising and condescending and sycophantic; all at once. He’s come to tell us about us. Like how safe we are. Safer more than London, he said. Good politics, boyo. That, pon top of your five cars? Star, you safe, dread. There’ll be no due diligence. None. Even if you tell them that your company, MonSpace (M) Sdn Bhd, made its way to The Central Bank of Malaysia’s long, long list of illegal Malaysian companies. Between the cars, the politicking and carrot-and-stick motorbikes, this is no time for due diligence. Just like it was for Ames and Harlequin.
Fear mongering. Fear of the unknown is a control mechanism. And, by the by, the guiding principle of religion. Too’s flimsy and sleazy broadside to whomever he meant by “those other Chinese people” was for just that: to conjure up fear — of the unknown. He pictured them to be a wretched, conniving ethnic bunch who are coming to oppress and enslave us, déjà vu. And to be sure, he told us how they are going to do it. But who are they?
If the Malaysian is referring to our Taiwanese patrons? Then his denigration is a double blow. The first is obvious and the second is an insulting dismissive by claiming to be here “first”. Does he have in mind to displace them? Then Ralph should shove him out to sea in a basket. If he doesn’t, still shove him out. It will be our aspirin.
Would you believe the ungodly irreverence of this flimflam artist? We must “thank God” he’s here. Thank God? For Too? Not so fast, sport. Not until the blaspheming motormouth tells us more about MonSpace. And less about us.
The projectionist. Too’s sales pitch is “Chinese” exploitation. Or his illusion of it. Hurling aspersions and allegations, without hurling facts or evidence he said that his invention is coming to put us back 200 years. We are going to be beholden to them for shelter and food. They are going to f-k us but good. In psychology, “projection is a form of defence in which unwanted feelings are displaced onto another person, where they then appear as a threat from the external world” — Britannica. It isn’t the “other Chinese” who are coming to f-k us over.
All this talk of “Chinese” exploitation is a moot point because Smarmy Stan is here — “first” — to save us. And Stano is going to do the opposite of exploitation. Where his invention is going to fleece us, Smarmy Stan is going to make us money; “together with St. Vincent and the Grenadines” is how he spins it. When you a stranger say that, pad up.
A racist or a male chauvinistic pig? If “those other Chinese people” is not a racist remark, then it comes this close. It is, certain, though, a male chauvinistic pig remark. Chinese is an ethnic group; a race. By using “other,” is the Malaysian is saying he is Chinese too? Then he’s free to use the pejorative term? It will be interesting to hear their take on him; to add to The Malaysian Central Bank’s.
An egregious slight. Clearly, Too feels the cars have given him power. So it has. Power enough to subjugate and belittled the police brass in front of their subordinates. It was vulgar and reeked of an egoistical con man who has badly misjudged his role. The condescending Malaysian then promised more presents adopting the carrot-and-stick approach. To get the presents, the police must keep the cars good. Then daddy humiliated them further by warning that he, Too, the incomer, not the government or any of its officials, who will be in charge. He will “evaluate” their performance. That, if you do not recognise it, is his loophole to renege.
Watch how easy it is to take control in a Third World country, nuh. Bluster and shiny objects are all you need. You can shelf due diligence; but not the Russian proverb: “the only free cheese is in the mousetrap.”
When would we be rid of this servitude? Never, it seems. Not when the government is too lickerish and grovelling to censure the fresh and fronting Malaysian. Their cowardly inaction empowers people like him to lord over us.
Remember how they used to send the Black Squad down Buccament, fully armed with dog and gun, on no-pay payday to subdue the workers and allow the incomer Dave Ames to piss on his labourers? Remember that good? Watch, is where Ames dey now? And watch Buccament too. Is Too going to be like that. And recall, too, how Ames escaped the law: on a pirogue down Chateau. Well, I-man go happily pay for a pirogue for Too’s send-off down the same Chateau. This delicious offer is not open-ended, though. They must sen he down before he becomes Ames.1.
The subliminal bribe: A gift of five cars is only that; a gift. But shiny red cars to a ULP government is political pornography. The obsequious overture, a bribe in sheep’s clothing, was so over the top that it was, rightly, rejected out of hand by higher, and more discerning, than Too’s enabler.
The foreign smarm wrongheaded himself because, clearly, he did not do his study well enough. The patronising Malaysian thought he would bamboozle the government with his oleaginous ooze and shiny red cars. He judged they would go apeshit at the sight of red car. Perhaps his patron advised him thus. But they were dead wrong. The gift was accepted. But the subliminal bribe was not: The red had to go. I am not buying that the red was a coincidental coincidence. It fits the Malaysian’s bootlicking temper too good. Like yam.
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