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Sunday, 14 June 2015


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I find it deplorable that Eleanor Hawkins found it necessary to apologize at all -- whether to the benighted natives of Sabah or to the Malay authorities with their misogynist and generally idiotic idea of obscenity. More generally, the spectacle of a high-quality individual representing the greatest civilization on Earth (an MSc in aeronautic engineering, in this case) prostrating herself before a bunch of nationalistic halfwits demanding "respect" (what is there to respect them for?) is rather sad.

I wonder how many burka / nijab wearers will be slung into jail for offending liberal sensibilities before being deported from Blighty?

Celebrating the human form is part and parcel of Western culture. Every palace, museum, and art gallery from California to Moscow has tits out and John Thomas flapping in the breeze. You posted images thereof only one or two articles below.

These youngsters found a private place beyond the immediate view of any locals - unlike the bin bag wearers who strut with impunity down every high street in Britain - to engage in their liberal culture. And there's nothing coercing Kinabalu locals to seek out images of scantily clad young Western girls on facebook or wherever, except their auto-erotic tendencies.

That young woman has absolutely nothing to apologize about. You need to remember that globalization cuts both ways: They need to look at us, and we need to look at them.


Alex, misogynism has nothing to do with it, half the 'flashers' were male and they were banged up along with the girls. As for "the greatest civilisation on earth" would this be an example of it?

The only half-wit here is you! Apart from failing to understand the rules governing guests and hosts, if you cannot understand that different peoples have different things which they hold dear and even holy then, alas, you are a typical product of our 'edukashun sistim'. So why don't you pop down to your local church and take a dump in the vestry, I'm sure the vicar would understand if you told him that you have a degree in 'Lego-building' from 'a reel yuni'!

As for you, SoD, I thought I had brought you up to know better. It wasn't a "private place", it was a holy place to the locals but one they left open to visitors. The local guide pleaded with the strippers not to do what they were doing but they went ahead. Yobs and yobettes, the lot of them, with about three brain cells between them all. But at least Miss Hawkins had the intelligence and the grace to apologise.

Alex, on further investigation I see that you are Russian, not British as I assumed. Some of my remarks might have puzzled you if you are not familiar with the current jargon here in this 'septic Isle'! I have your blog logged and I will follow it with interest because Russia remains, even to this day, "a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma" so any sort of explanation is useful. But could you open your blog to direct comments?

For the benefit of my other readers:

I've climbed up that mountain, and when I went absolutely no-one mentioned it was a holy place. They were all to busy making money out of its attractions to foreign tourists.

What an absolute hypocrisy for the locals to cry "holy despoilment" when knockers and nobs come out, not in view of anyone who wasn't looking for them, while at the same time littering their "holy place" with shabby huts, shit houses, and money making exploits; literally, trampled under foot by anyone and everyone at the invitation of these so called "pious" locals.

I hope the mountain's soul reacts with an earthquake that levels the place and deprives them of their enterprise and hypocrisy.

And of course I'm not original in my thoughts, there was this bloke about 2,000 years ago who got there first, if I remember rightly.


I should not have left an angry comment on a blog where I had not commented before (although I must have visited from time to time because The White Sun of the Desert, one of my regular reads, links to Duff and Nonsense) so I apologize for my inappropriately combative tone.

I was drawn to this case by the words of a Sabah deputy PM, who suggested a causal link between the stripping tourists and the June earthquake. (Using his logic, I might as well suggest that Northern gods of technology retaliated against Malaysia for jailing the young aviation engineer when a Malaysian plane nearly crashed in Melbourne last week.) That man turned out to be a Roman Catholic, an Australia-trained lawyer, and a prominent politician: the first non-Muslim local to become Sabah's PM (1984). He is unlikely to believe the nonsense he spouted; it must have been a calculated political statement.

I'm not sure if anyone's feelings were genuinely offended by the tourists at all. It could all have been a sideshow to deflect the public's attention away from something important, like Malaysia Airlines' troubles. (That's what the Kremlin would do.) The more I read about the locals - formerly known as headhunters or skullhunters - the more I doubt the desecration narrative. They are pretty shrewd operators and have played the indigenous card pretty well with Kuala Lumpur.

Some random notes:

There is much about the case that remains unclear. The images leaked to the press appear to have nothing to do with Kinabalu. The tourists neither urinated on the mountain nor told the guide to "go to hell," according to reports from the courtroom. What evidence forced the backpackers to plead guilty has not been disclosed.

The Kinabalu summit is at 13,420 feet and not exactly crowded. The tourists were most likely alone, except, perhaps, the guide. It's not really a public place in the usual sense. The whole thing was a far cry from drunk Brits having sex in a Cretan pool.

The court was misogynous in handing the same sentence to the men and the ladies, who only bared their breasts, while the men bared all. One wonders if the women would have received double the men's jail terms had they stripped completely.

Alex, no apology necessary. It was 'SoD' (Son of Duff) who put me in a grumpy mood, something he's been doing for the last fifty years! Anyway, silly girl does something silly, various people take offence, real or otherwise, but she at least has the grace to apologise.

However, none of that stops you from calling in here and saying what you think.

David, SoD is after all a fine young man :)


"I apologize for my inappropriately combative tone."

Welcome to D&N Alex K, I can assure you "combative tone" is more than acceptable here. "Ask for forgiveness, not permission" is the adage, and you've already got in the spirit.

We have another occasional Rooskie visitor, "Sexy Alexey", who we think might be working for the "St Petersburg Troll Factory".

We would all be delighted to see you two going at it hammer and tongs (or should that be "Hammer and Sickle"?), gloves off, anytime!

One of the most terrifying nights of my life was the night before climbing Kinabalu, spent in the last bar with electricity in the middle of the Borneo jungle. We were limbering up to watch England vs. Germany, kick off at 4am, so an all night drinkie sesh in full flow.

Then the door burst open and in walked the locals. I noticed some of the older guys had the skull tattoo on their hands, indicating that they'd taken a head, probably during the conflict with the Indons in the 60's.

Thankfully they were cheering for England, and stunned us by reciting every player in the top ten premiership team's first 11's. I hardly even knew the England line up! They are mad about English footie over there.

Then things started to get worrying. "So England gonna win, yes?" asked the head-hunters. "Yeh, of course" I replied, jokingly. This was England against Germany, and as you no doubt know, we never beat the Jerries.

Anyway, they huddled together and whispered amongst themselves, and then started getting on their mobile phones and placing very large bets on England to win - I mean like a year's salary and stuff, and really complicated spread bets too, based on goal difference.

Fucking hell, I thought. Those letters flashed in front of me when I get myself into situations "WTFAIDH?" I've just become tipster to a tribe of head-hunters, and got them to back England against Germany with their life savings, and I'm stuck in their village with no exit for the rest of the night. My Scottish mate who was travelling with me grinned broadly at me, after he'd explained to them he was not English. They knew, and replied, "Yeah, you're the country next door with the shit football team, though aren't you?", which was some consolation, and took the smile off his face somewhat.

The bar went silent as the Jerries ploughed a goal into the English net, and carried it all the way to half time. I was seriously shitting myself.

Then, miracle of miracles, beyond anything that has ever happened before, since, or ever will: The Innngggeeerrrlllaaannnnddddd stuck 5 into the Jerries before the final whistle. The bar erupted and some of the head-hunters were crying their winnings were so huge. I felt like joining them, out of pure bloody relief. The chief suggested I might be a good match for his daughter; can you imagine me turning up in Dorset to announce my engagement to "Hoki Koki, daughter of Chief Hoki Koki, chief head-hunter of Borneo"? Mind you, my royal credentials as a descendant of Ap-Lake, Knight of the Roundtable, would have made the match rather appropriate, of course. The chief seemed even more convinced of the suitability on hearing of my heritage. He asked if that meant I was any good with a sword, and when I replied I'd fenced for Innnngggeeerrrllland in an under 16's competition aged 13, I thought my marital fate was sealed.

We had to stay another day to recover, my hangover was so bad. And we skulked out under cover of not very much at all, with me still a bachelor.


Oh, and a footnote, or should it be a "tit-note"?

How come all the Borneo dames wander around with their knockers out, if they don't like us doing it?

Some of them are quite hot too, perhaps I missed my chance there.


Likely Lawrence, just as well you didn't er, end up Hoki Koki's other half as she'd likely mentioned you had more'n a maternal line. Else you mighta showed up in the Wellcome Collection back from visiting the in-laws ...

There are aspects of your life, SoD, over which a veil should be drawn - and then nailed! If your poor mother should ever find out . . .

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