‘Cartoon cards’ or ang kong ngah pai

THE “CARTOON CARDS” or ang kong ngah pai that we played came in perforated sheets (bigger than A4), designed to allow us to tear them into small ones. We ended up with about 20 cards, roughly 2in by 2.5in in size, from each big piece. On one side are reprints of full-colour cartoons and illustrations, probably of Japanese origin. On the other, one-colour graphics.

Such cards were part of the seasonal games in Penang. I suspect now all these could have been orchestrated by importers and distributors – invisible hands. Otherwise how could these seasons have happened with such regularity, widespread distribution of their appendices.

As far as I can remember, there were three ways we played such cards:

• Shooting the head and tail like marbles (read here). In this version, we switched the marbles for cards.
• High-five: This was between two players, each holding a card on the palm. They performed a high-five and allowed the cards to drop. If the cards landed with similar sides (full-colour or one-colour) facing up, it was a draw. If they landed differently, both cards would go to the person with the full-coloured side facing up.
• Currency: In school we were not allowed to gamble, especially with cash. However, seemingly innocuous games like opening books to add up their numbers, tossing coins to guess heads or tails, etc, were indeed gambling, as were the tontin games peddled by street vendors. In some of these we used cards to bet. We didn’t wager with cash so it was okay, I suppose.

© Lim Siang Jin

Fake news purveyors say they are journalists too

Republished from New Straits Times, Oct 24, 2020,
with the author’s permission. Read the original here.

By Yong Soo Heong

IN AN EVER-CONFUSING world of legitimate news criss-crossing with fake news, I’m just wondering how long Donald Trump, the chief promoter of fake news, will continue to spew bad vibes about the mainstream media.

When less is said of fake news, such labelling will hopefully evaporate.

But will it? Especially now that Trump has given greater legitimacy to the wicked forces of fake news by saying such news is everywhere. Prior to late 2016, murmurs of news being manipulated made the rounds but never at the frequency that Trump easily belched “Fake News!” whenever issues weren't in his favour.

Fake news has become a big thing, especially on social media. When fake news is repeated, it becomes really difficult for the public to discern what's real and what’s not.

Real news practitioners have resigned to the fact that fake news and rumours had thrived online because few can verify what's real. And more so when people tend to veer towards content that reinforces their own biases.

Granted that the media had been frequently used by the four Ps — politicians, propagandists, publicists or public relations practitioners — in the past. I won’t say that lies had been thrown about and the media readily gulped them up. To be fair, it’s how the information is treated (or slanted) and disseminated. But with the advent of social media, that’s another kettle of fish!

Let’s take a moment to reflect what a young Pakistani politician, Bilawal Bhutto Zardari, said: “Propaganda, misinformation, and disinformation have always been part of political warfare. Social media and other new platforms have given it a new life and reach through which the fake news phenomenon can reach everywhere.”

Now if a politician such as Bilawal had admitted that those ingredients had always been part of the political machinery, then perhaps we’ve to exercise greater caution when digesting information from politicians. Maybe not with a pinch of salt but several spoonfuls, perhaps! 

Whether Trump gets re-elected as president remains to be seen. But, ever since he took office in January 2017, he has been assailing the mainstream media for producing fake news.

As a journalist for a number of decades, I’ve always abhorred that kind of labelling. True blue journalists may take a certain stand, stance or bias but certainly won't stoop so low as to produce something that's not real. That’s the domain of fiction writers or mercenary writers imbued with a mission.

By and large, journalists in mainstream news organisations have been steadfast in their profession. But sadly, fake news is now a new menace in the public space as their purveyors also proclaim themselves to be journalists too and taint the noble profession in the process.

I concur with Jim Acosta, who reports for CNN at the White House, when he said: “Yes, Barack Obama had his clashes with the press. I witnessed those first-hand covering the second term of his administration. But we did not have Obama on almost a weekly basis referring to the press as the enemy of the people and accusing reporters of treason and calling legitimate stories fake news.”

The use of social media to implant falsehoods by latching on the legitimacy of mainstream media organisations is rather appalling. With no lack of creative people and the juicy goings-on in Malaysia these days, satirists have been having a field day.

But, what’s worse is that some have even resorted to “hijacking” some media organisation's online platforms to pass on disinformation for their benefit, and frequently saying a public holiday had been declared or that the government was going to pay out bonuses to its employees. Such ruses occur whenever some state or national team had emerged victorious in some popular sports events and during Budget time.

And Bernama, the national news agency, hadn’t been spared such manipulation. What’s even more ruinous is when some people tend to shatter Bernama’s reputation and level of journalistic competency by using their own interpretation of events or some online auto translating tools to post some purported news items on social media.

Bernama has reported this to the police several times but these envious perpetrators have yet to be trapped. I hope these journalist-wannabes can be exposed soon!

• Datuk Yong Soo Heong writer is a former chief executive officer and editor-in-chief of Bernama. Read more about him here.

Chneow au! Kite flying, fighting and chasing

THE WEATHER in Penang in the 1960s was predictable, unlike today. The dry and windy season stretched from year-end through Chinese New Year and slightly beyond. The Westlands School grounds would be parched while some gardens with bougainvillea were at their most colourful. On the streets and in open areas, droves of children would be flying kites, many of them engaging in dogfights with others in the vicinity – depending on the size of their kites and the lengths of their strings, that could be a neighbourhood away. Occasionally shouts of chneow au! (literally “snatch” or “seize” the kite) would send troops of youngsters, even adults, running after one that was floating listlessly downwards. The person who grabbed the string first got to keep the kite.

I chanced upon a chat of 2005 on kite-fighting in the PenangTalk forum. The first guy, “Free Spirit”, very much in favour of reviving kite fighting, said:

Yes, it would be good to bring back the paper-type kites and kite fighting. I was very much a part of that generation in the 1950s and 1960s when kite fighting was at its peak. Different people then had their own recipes for making the glass-coated strings (some of the more exotic ingredients included egg white). Of course, I had my own way of making those strings. 

Invariably, we would use the Griffin brand No 10 string, imported from England. It had just the right thickness and strength for this type of kites. I don't know if this brand and type is still available.

One of the major problems which led to the demise of this highly entertaining sport during that time, was that children and even adults chased vigorously after these kites once their strings were cut. These led to road accidents and even fights. Another problem was that people flew these kites indiscriminately, even by the roadside, thereby posing a danger to passing traffic, particularly cyclists and motorcyclists [Editor’s note: The strings would descend across streets and, when they were 4ft to 6ft above ground, they cut anyone who zoomed past.] 

I think Penangites should bring back this unique form of kites and kite-fighting, found only in this region, both for the enjoyment of the locals and also to attract tourists. The tourism board could organise kite-fighting competitions. With proper controls, like appropriate areas for flying, etc, the dangers mentioned above could be eliminated. 

The other person, “Razor Sharp”, replied:

Thanks for reminding me about the Griffin No 10 [strings] and egg white coating with ground glass from burnt-out bulbs! Those strings, wound on Milo tins, had to be handled very carefully with leather gloves (or garden gloves, even newspaper, whichever was available).

Razor Sharp also talked about “experiments” to weigh down the tail [more later]. As traffic was light and he played in the suburbs or padi fields, he did not, as far as he could remember, meet with road accidents. But he could remember “bruises from falls during chases or from the trees!”. Yes, it was a very serious sport with unwritten but widely-accepted rules and all. The links, unfortunately, have disappeared after the PenangTalk forum became the “new” PenangTalk recently.

I was not allowed to play with kites in school, however, in my area, at the junction of Cantonment Road and Gurney Drive, there were three or four clusters of boys who were heavily involved in the sport. I am sure, given the size of the WPS field, there must have been many kite enthusiasts in the area. In this story, I would like to recount my experience in a few areas with inputs from friends especially Ooi Kar Keat.

Kite designs

See larger image attached at the end of the story

The kites that most of us played with were all variations of the diamond kite with the following parts: (1) spine or tua koot made of bamboo (2) cross-bar also of bamboo (3) bridle, bridle-point and line using Griffin No 10 white string (chap ho snuah in Hokkien) that came in small wooden reels (4) cover made of rice paper and (5) tail(s) to stabilise the kite.

• Tua au (literally the “big kite”) was the best for kite-fighting because of its strength and manoeuvrability. Its direction of flight, especially of a tailless one, could be changed very frequently because when the line is laxed (when we ulor the line), it twisted and turned a lot. However, when it pointed in a certain direction, usually in a split second, and we pulled back (or angkat) the line, it would move very swiftly in a straight line for a distance – thereby allowing us to attack other kites. Its size and strength also made it possible to fly it a few hundred feet up, such that dramatic kite-fights can be watched from afar.
• Au kecik or au kniah (literally the “small kite”) was more for younger children, the novice or an elder to teach children. Although it had all the components of bigger diamond kite, it was small (slightly bigger than 1ft square) and had few reinforcements. The rice paper was gummed to the tua koot and the four corners are held together and reinforced only with paper. Many people, to lend stability and for aesthetic reasons, added tails to it – strips of newspaper, rice paper, even crepe. Despite its fragility, it was used for kite fights too, at lower levels. The string used to fly it was lighter too — Griffin No 4.
• Au ikan (fish-shaped kite). This kite was difficult to make and therefore not common. Its tail-end curled outwards and shaping the bamboo for the correct curve was a task. Two little tails were frequently added to the curved ends for stability.
• Au katak (frog-shaped kite). This design used the most material with an added inverse cross-bar at the bottom and more string to hold it together. This kite could easily be spotted because, apart being relatively uncommon, it would stand out against others in terms of shape and movement. From what I can remember, it was a bit “temperamental”, refusing to stay steady even as we pulled the line back.
• Au kangkang. Duduk kangkang in Bahasa Malaysia referred to being seated with wide-open legs. The name of the kite, with its split bottom, was derived from this term. A knot was made at the end of the split to prevent the bamboo from breaking further.

Making kites

See larger image attached at the end of the story

The easiest way to get a kite was to buy one; they were available in large numbers during the kite season from the chai tiam mah (grocery shops) or other roadside kedai runcit. However, one of my neighbour’s uncles guided us on how to make one. The following are some of the steps:

• Shaving the bamboo: Split dried bamboo into sticks slightly over 1cm wide and shave them down to about 0.5cm thick. The bamboo should be of the green variety found, e.g. along the river in Ayer Itam.
• Balancing the cross-bar: Make the cross-bar from a piece of bamboo with a node in the middle. Shave both sides and bend to see if they curved evenly on both sides. Tie a thread to the node and hold the stick up to see if it balances – if the weight on both sides are roughly equal.
• Fixing the frame: Tie the spine and the cross bar together using some sort of lashing knot with the Griffin No 10 cotton line. Face the smooth side of the bamboo (1) upwards for the cross-bar and (2) inwards, against the cover, for the spine. Make notches at both ends of the spine and cross-bar and, using the same string, shape the frame by bending the cross-bar and tying both ends to the spine.
• Using rice paper as cover: Use rice paper as cover for the kites. Cut the paper to an inch bigger than the frame. Use tapioca starch (or chneow) to glue its edges to the kite by folding against the string along the perimeter. Place some glue on the spine too to stick the paper to it. Rice paper could be bought quite freely then. The best place was probably the Sia Boey area but I cannot recall.

Making glass-covered strings

See larger image attached at the end of the story

Glass-covered kite lines, wound nicely around Milo or Ovaltine tins so they make angular patterns, could be bought at the kedai runcit all over. Their quality was poor. Desperate to get better ones, we made our own – usually under the bright sun.

• Choosing the line: In our days, the most favoured brand of cotton line for kite-flying in general and kite-fighting in particular was the Griffin brand size 10 cotton string that came in wooden reels suited for use on the Singer Sewing Machine. It was strong (able to handle all the rough handling of a seasoned kite-fighter), absorbent (able to allow glue to sink in and fine glass to stick on) and flexible (able to be pulled back, released and wound back at great speed without knotting up too much). Imported from England, it was also widely available.
• Pounding the glass: It was common knowledge that only glass from light bulbs (incandescent as well as fluorescent) should be used. It made sense because being very thin and hard, we need not have to pound too much to make the powder consistently fine. Apart from glass, we used some cheap crystal; we could feel its cutting edge on the finger but never tested it against anyone.
• Cooking the gum: Many secret ingredients, like egg white, have been touted as an adhesive for the pounded glass. The most common was goo phoey kar (gelatin made from boiling down skin and ligaments of animals specifically cattle). It came in pieces (not powdered). We would cook them in tins until they dissolved to the consistency of a syrup. The glass powder was then added along with some powdered dye.
• Coating the string: The process of coating the line would start by, first, identifying a few points to allow the line to hang while it dried. It could be two badminton posts. Or a combination of a tree trunk, a telephone post and a swing. One end of the line, still in its original reel, was tied to one post and the reel was allowed to drop to the ground. The “coater” then, carrying the tin of cooled glue along in one hand (say, left), dipped the right hand in and collected a handful of the mushy liquid and residue. Grasping the line tightly with right hand, he would walk back – allowing the mixture to stick to the line as it was released from the reel. This is continued from point to point non-stop until the whole line was coated. For example, if two badminton posts were used, a person would have to walk up and down and around the posts about 15 times for a 100-yard line. Care was taken not to coat too much. Or to allow specks of glass residue on the line. It could, like a knot, give your opponent a slicing point on the line.
• Drying: Lines were dried in the sun and wound properly on a tin so that they could be released quickly in a fight. In reality, once the line was released, there was not much time to wind it back. It was just allowed to fall to the ground carefully so that in the process of pulling back and releasing, it did not get entangled.

Rules of play

See larger image attached at the end of the story

Despite the apparent chaos in the sky and on the ground where chaotic hordes would chase after fallen kites, there were a number of rules governing the game:

• Cut as near the kite as possible: While the overall objective of the competitors was to cut the line of the opponent, the loss inflicted should be just the kite and as little of the line as possible. Opponents therefore would try to cut the line as near the kite as possible. Cutting lines at very low points have resulted in fights. They were also a bonanza for the kite catchers; some wrongly-cut lines could be long enough to be used to fly other kites, albeit the smaller ones.
• First one to grab the line gets the kite: The overall purpose of the active and eager spectator-snatchers was to grab the kite that had fallen. It was easy to spot these kites; they drift listlessly and people on the ground would anticipate where they would land. If the places were thought to be near enough, there would be a rush towards them. Boys (the majority of kite flyers were males) would climb over fences, take other short cuts and run across streets, many a time endangering themselves and others. The basic rule in our area was this: The first one to grab the line gets the kite. Beyond that, there would be a multitude of areas of contention:

1. Some people would grab the line higher, nearer the kite, even after a line had been caught. Quarrels and fights would ensue. The clearest sign of victory was someone running away with a kite in tow and his friends surrounding and running with him to protect him from other groups.
2. Sometimes, the kite would be caught in trees or on lamp posts. The ensuing struggles to get them often resulted in falls, cuts and bruises. In such a case, the person who got to the kite would claim it.
3. Unsporting boys, especially when their groups were large enough to fend off others, after failing to get the line, would grab the kites and destroyed them. The pandemonium that ensued would be settled by gangland principles of the survival of the strongest.

Kite-fighting tactics

See larger image attached at the end of the story

While there were rules governing the game, the tactics within play itself were the most interesting, replete with a set of terms based on the Nyonya-Baba Hokkien language of Penang.

• Lambong the kite or khee au: The first step was to ensure the kite was hoisted or launched. Some people ran with the kite in tow and allowed the wind to catch. Many a time, the competitor would have an assistant who took the kite about 40ft to 50ft away, held it properly against the wind and shouted out to his mate to pull. This was called lambong (derived from lampung or float in Malay?) or khee au (raise the kite).
• Balance: A second or two after lambong, we would know if our kites were balanced. If it constantly swung to one side, it had to be rebalanced by inserting rice paper as a counter balance.
• Angkat, ulor and jinam: Angkat meant pull the line. When you did that, the kite would move in the direction the head was pointed. When the kite was pointed down and you angkat, the kite would dive or jinam. Ulor (hulur in Bahasa) was a term used to describe letting the line go and letting the wind pull the kite away.
• Positioning and directing: The fighting kite was never still. It always moved left and right, faced upward or downward, etc. The flyer had to be very attentive to all its movements. In the split second that the kite was pointed towards a desired direction, say at 45 degrees, he had to pull, sometimes pulled very hard or angkat kuat for the kite to head that direction. Kites without tails were very responsive, even to slight tugs.
• Aggressive or not: When you were out for a fight, when you flew close to their line, your combatants would recognise you quickly. They might evade or counter-attack quickly. Those who evaded fights were probably people out to have fun with their children or mates, and they were usually let off. For the mutually aggressive pairs, interesting dogfights of attacks, counter attacks and tactical retreats would ensue.
• Cutting another line in two ways: The line of an opponent could be cut, as far as I know, in two ways. When we felt that both lines had touched, we could: (1) Angkat kuat or pull back vigorously to slice the opponent’s line. This was usually done when your line was below your opponent’s (2) Ulor quickly at the moment of contact, let the wind pull the line and slice your opponent’s. This was when your line was above, and your opponent was coming at you from below. 
• Role of the assistant: The assistant played a big part in these duels. He would advise his partner what to do, watch out for other parties that would make a sneak attack and, most important of all, made sure the line did not get entangled.

© Lim Siang Jin. Written with inputs from Ooi Kar Keat