Robin seemed more animated this time, more agitated by events unfolding before his bespectacled gaze. He’s more edgy, more amenable to contentious debate, and seemed to have a loadful of grievances in his mind. He mumbled about the one-year anniversary of the “Anwar 916 Scam” -- the stillborn political revolution that was supposed to sweep the non-Bahasa Malaysia literate self-proclaimed Anak Bangsa Malaysia crowd to the corridors of power in Putrajaya. Then he bitched about the Perak political imbroglio, including the state assembly mayhem, blaming everything under the sun on UMNO/BN while oblivious to the root cause and sequence of events that led to the comical scenes, topped by the unforgettable spectacle of A. Sivakumar being dragged kicking and screaming from the Speaker’s chair. He next turned into a pseudo-CSI expert by blaming MACC officers for Teoh Beng Hock’s death, seemingly in denial of the slimy web of deceit and treachery permeating the incestuous relationship between elements of the Selangor Pakatan government and their organized crime siblings. The series of by-election victories for Pakatan didn’t seem to uplift Robin’s spirit. In fact, they just whet Robin’s appetite for more of everything. More power, more rights, more privileges, more concessions, more of everything.
I had three hours to burn at the PJ kopitiam, so I bought him a cuppa thick black local coffee, some kaya-spattered roti bakar and a couple of soft boiled eggs. I had the same thick black coffee and some subpar undercooked Nasi Lemak garnished with oily sambal, limp timun and burnt ikan bilis.
