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From Our Correspondent: What to Do About Myanmar -- Nuke 'Em
It's the Only Language them Burmese Understand
By ROGER MITTON Asiaweek - May 26, 2000
See, this guy, Bill, he invites me over to his place. I mean, like, I don't
really like the guy, especially since he became mayor -- tall, red-nosed shyster
who thinks he's the neighborhood's savior, though you'd never trust him with
your daughter let alone your wife. But, you know, he's in the Westside Club too
and, well, we gotta stick together and support each other even when some of us
act pretty high-handed and, well, you know, plain dumb -- which is way too
often, especially since we got infiltrated with all these out-of-towners with
their weird notions about gun control, vegetarianism and
do-unto-others-as-you-would-be-done-unto malarky. Anyways, Bill was throwing a
real red-meat barbeque on the back lawn so I figured I'd mosy over, have a
coupla beers, a few pork chops, some franks, and maybe we'd finish off our
chinwag about the efficacy of Hegel's 'Inconsistency Principle' in modern
politics. That always gets the holier-than-thou bozos going and separates the
men with cojones from the hot-air wafflers.
Anyways, since I know the way these Westside clubbers eat -- like obesity is beautiful and moderation is for wimps -- I made sure I got over there real early. Bill pulls me a cold Budweiser, tosses me some pretzels, and then goes off to bake up a mess of potatoes. I ambled out back to check on the brazier and just, you know, relax till the gang rolls in. Now, okay, so Bill's place is in this pretty spooky 'hood which he promised to clean up in his election campaign -- I mean, there's no freeway access, the street lights are all out, you never see no cops walking around, and the people dress like they've never heard of of Nikko or Tommy Hilfiger or Rayban; but even so, and making allowances, I was just gobsmacked by what I saw and heard out there. First off, over Bill's left-side fence, I hear this, like, repetitive
muttering, moaning sound. I went and peeked over the fence and almost dropped my
Bud. There was this young girl, very skinny, foreign-looking, you know, oriental
sorta face, walking aimlessly round and round the backyard, muttering to
herself. But, get this, she was, like, shackled -- I mean, like there was a rope
that came out from under the back door and was tied to one of her ankles. She
only had that small backyard to move around in. Heck, it was just plain pitiful.
She was muttering away to herself like she was in some kinda dream and she
didn't even seem to notice or hear me when I called out to her. I was figuring
what to do to help her when I suddenly jumped on hearing this awful shriek from
way back over the back fence.
Jeez, it cut right through me. I ran across the lawn to have a decko and
this time I was so goddam shocked I spilt my beer down my pants. I mean, it was,
like, unbelievable, there was this young boy who was tied to a stake, but like
he had no room to move. He was a black kid, from Africa or Asia maybe, and the
kid was half-naked and he had these bruises on him. More like welts really. My
God, it would break your heart. Heck, I was right on the verge of leaping over
that goddam fence and setting him free there and then when suddenly I hear these
thwack-thwack-like noises coming from behind my right shoulder, from over the
fence on the other side of Bill's back lawn -- which, I have to say, he keeps
very nicely mown with a perfectly manicured border. He's like that, real
home-and-garden proud is Bill, I'll say that for him. Anyways, I dash over and
there's these three kids in this, like, cage. Yeh, I mean, like they were
animals in a zoo or something. And this fella, their father I assume, he was
just going back into the house -- carrying a whip! No, like I mean it. I'm not
lying. He'd been whipping these young kids who were kept in this cage. I mean,
they were crying and there was these bruises all over them. I was just beside
myself with rage. I mean, it was like I'd stepped into some kinda nightmare or
maybe one of those Stephen King horror movies -- 'cept this was real.
Just then I hear Bill come out and he says to me in this real casual way:
"Sonny boy, how's it going? 'Nuther Bud? Hey, you look kinda spooked, what's
up?" Spooked? That ain't the word, I says. It's just unbelievable, incredible --
horrible. And I tell him what's going on over his fences on all sides. He
listens kinda nonchalantly until I get to tell him about the girl with the rope
tied to her ankle. She was really the one who looked less serious, but when he
hears this, Bill just goes completely bonkers. I mean, like a gun has gone off
in his pants or something. "Is that goddam Burmese bastard tying her up again?"
He rises up and that big schnozzola starts twitching like it done during the
campaign when the other guy accused him of being soft on the mafia and them
other neighborhood Godfathers. "That's it, when Rob and the resta the guys get
here we'll go round there to Chez Myanmar -- that's what he calls his place --
and kick ass. We'll really wop the guy this time. I mean, we've already kicked
him and the resta those Burmese round here outta the club. He can't go to the
supermarket, he even can't use his car after what we done. But he just never
learns. Jeez, I hate that guy. What he's doing, that's the most brutal thing
I've ever seen. It's a threat to the security of the country -- no, to the whole
goddam universe."
Well, a bit over the top, but still I was happy to hear this. And I hoped
Bill was going to insist that we mete out the same punishment (or even worse) to
those other brutes who were actually mistreating -- torturing, in fact -- their
kids even more. I told him this and I urged him to call the police right now and
not wait for the other guys to get here. Then he could tell the cops about his
other neighbors who was also abusing their kids and we could get them all locked
up and maybe treated to the same kind of music -- I'd certainly volunteer to do
that. But then I was taken aback, to put it mildly by Bill's reaction. "Ah,
never mind them," he says. "Over the back fence there, there's a very nice
Chinese couple -- they do a great dim- sum on Sundays. And anyway, we don't want
to beat up on them, it only makes 'em worse. Besides, I do a lot of business
with them, you know, they are the council's single biggest customer, so, you
know. Gotta be careful of our own turf, eh? Now lemme fix you a beer before I
get the baseball bats to deal with that Burmese runt."
Hey, like this really upset me, being so kind and chummy to the Chinese
over the back who was beating up on their folk, and anyways, what about the guys
over the other fence what had their kids in a cage and was beating up on them
with a whip? What about that, eh, Bill? Again, Bill shocked me when I pressed
him about this. "Nah," he says. "Just ignore them. They're a funny lot that
couple over there. He's Vietnamese, she's from Laos. That caging and whippin'
and like, that's just how they behave, it's like natural for them. Fact, is I
kinda like them now. We had problems before and I tried arguing with them, but
it don't work. Best thing is to be real nice to them. In fact, we should invite
them over to join in the barbecue, they're not so well off so we can let them
have some of the leftover franks and potatoes, share with them. Then maybe we
can sorta slip in a few words telling them that maybe they shouldn't be beating
up on their kinfolk so badly. Just very carefully so we don't upset their
feelings."
Hang on, I says, you're going to beat up on the Burmese guy -- and quite
right too, what he's doing is totally despicable; but you're gonna do nothing
about the Chinese, Lao and Vietnamese thugs, even though, if anything, they're
doing worse things? I don't get it. I mean, you even want to invite them over
and be real chummy with them? What is this? That's when Bill -- and his lady
friend Maddy, who finally surfaced then and waddled out, they really set me
right about all this and for that I have to be real grateful. They explained to
me how these Chinese guys, like, they have a lot of problems with maintaining
harmony in their household. I mean, for starters they're a Godless bunch, so
that doesn't help the situation. And, so, well, natch, they need to be, like,
ruthless, if not totally brutal, in chastising their kinfolk and their kids to
stop them getting outta line.
If they didn't, Bill explained, their entire household might break up,
there'd be social disorder in the 'hood and we'd all suffer -- the business
first off, and let's not downplay that, that's what keeps us in Buds and
ribeyes. And as they explained, if you try to, like, act tough with these guys
and suggest that maybe allowing a bit of freedom might actually foster better
tranquillity and family relations they just go wild. I mean, you just can't
reason with them. They, like, accuse you of interfering and tell you to just
butt out, and all round it just makes them get tougher on their kids so it's
plain self-defeating. Much better to engage these folk, do business with them,
invite them over, and go round to their place and party with them. They like
that. You just have to turn a blind eye to the black sheep of the family who are
caged up in the corner and have had most of their teeth kicked out. In fact,
Maddy fetched me some fliers she'd got from the municipality showing that this
was the right way to go. These leaflets that have been very carefully thought
out by experts that Maddy knows, they all say that in dealing with any brutes
who beat up on their family that the best treatment is engagement. Even the
prez, no less, says of these kinds of people: "We think it makes more sense to
engage with them rather than ignore them." Right on. Apparently he even said
this about them North Korean serial killers who was terrorizing the bay area and
firing rockets for God's sake. So that's what we have to do with the Chinese.
It's the right way to go.
Likewise those weird Indochinese folk over the other fence, they have these
smart-alecky kids who seem to think they don't have to obey their parents. I
mean, can you imagine? The parents've got some friends from the same street who
try to help them teach their young kids about filial piety but that approach
hasn't worked. Their kids still act rambunctious and want to be free to speak
their own minds. So they've got no choice but to smack them down, put 'em
outside in the cold in a cage and just give them a bit of bread and a good
thwack with a billy stick now and again or maybe drag 'em around by the hair
once in a while. Bill explained that this was fine and dandy 'cos if, like, they
grew up to be students who wanted to speak out and, you know, like even
criticize their parents, what the heck would happen then? They might even get
the idea of taking over running the house themselves and kicking their folks
out. They might want to start putting posters up saying life is better that way.
They might stop doing business with us, for God's sake. It was just unimaginable
what they might get up to. As well, said Bill, all those neighbors were pretty
buddy buddy -- and very touchy about criticism, especially from guys like us. So
they might gang up together and then what, eh? So all told it was best just to
humor them, build up business with them, keep inviting them over for a supper
now and again, feel happy to go over there to chew the fat and check out their
lovely souvenirs from home. I mean, there's a limit to what anyone can do. And
he's right.
But that doesn't mean Bill isn't really really peeved about that damn
Burmese brute over the other side. I mean, that's something different. That's an
exception. And at some point you gotta make a stand to show, you know, you're a
real ethical kinda guy who believes in standing up for what's right. That's why
we're going to show this town just where our social responsibility lays and get
some real tough action taken against that guy, that disgrace to humanity. I
mean, does he think we're going to be chummy chummy with him like we are with
the other guys who are behaving just as badly? I mean, just cos he's Burmese he
thinks we are gonna treat him like we do the Chinese and them other intolerant
thugs? No way, José. We has to be consistent. It's only ethical. Like, two
wrongs don't make a right and we only have time to focus on one at a time.
That's why we have to be totally chummy with these Chinese, Vietnamese, North
Koreans and them others, the Bruneians, Laotians and so on. It's only right. But
those Burmese, yeh, Bill's right, string 'em up, it's the only language they
understand. Better yet, if they really are a threat to our national security as
the prez says, then I says: let's nuke 'em. Yeh, that'll really show 'em. Let's
nuke 'em into the ice-age. "Hey, Bill, gimme another Bud, willya. I'm feelin'
better already." |