when i take masterWhisky Portrait
out for a drag
i get to meet the neighbours
i can broadly divide them
into friends and enemies

my arch enemy of course
is pocky
the whore for whiskytreats
though i do feel a bit
sorry for her
she s younger than me
and seems very sad and lonely
her master never plays with her
and she s never allowed
to take her master
out for a drag
that s probably why
she comes to the fence
whenever master goes outside
and why she likes to lick
my master s hand
when he goes to stroke her

pocky lives with two other dogs
they don t come to the fence
but when i m out for a drag
and walk past their gate
they rush to and fro
which doesn t seem
very friendly to me

a little further down the street
is a miniature hush puppy dog
he s very old
he ll walk slowly to the gate
wagging his tail
with a surprising vigour
we ll rub noses for a bit
and then he ll lift his leg
and pee over the gate
i respond in kind by
peeing over the nearest bush
i think of him as an old friend

i m a bit wary of my gay stalker
i still see him
from time to time
and let him sniff my butt
as i sniff his
i guess i d call him a friend

near the entrance to the moobaan
there s a siberian husky
who i think also might be gay
he wears a decorated collar
with a little bell around his neck
very chi chi
and obviously spends hours
blow drying his fur
to make it particularly bouffant
he s very friendly though
and often moves from
lying in front of his personal fan
to say hello at the front gate

next door is a golden retriever
with what seems to be
a terrible case of oedema
he s so large
he can barely drag himself
to his feet
let alone walk
and he can barely bark
i guess he must feel bad
that he can t protect his master
against the frogs
it s very sad

and in the next house
there are three dogs which
bark and snarl as i pass
frantically trying to force their way
between the bars of the gate
definitely enemies
i just ignore them
there are quite a few
similar dogs around

even worse is the pomeranians
they re everywhere
in fact
i think there are probably
more pomeranians on my patch
than there are in pomerania
the house on the corner
has three of them
and they follow me
from the other side of the fence
the full length of their garden
yapping and baring their teeth

actually a lot of the dogs are foreign
what with the pomeranians from pomerania
the dalmations from croatia
the labradors from canada
the lion dog from china
and there s a little ball of
fuzzy black fluff
so i guess he s probably from africa

i m pretty sure that
they re all illegal immigrants
after all master tells me
hes never seen them signing in
at the immigration department
in fact i might be
the only proper thai dog here

some people think these dogs
who come over here
and steal ours doggie jobs
are in some way high class
well they re wrong
the ones that bark at me
so rudely
obviously don t know
who i am
they don t even recognise
one of the world s greatest living artists
only a lowbrow philistine
wouldn t know about art

i believe elvis presley
sang about dogs like these
which begins

you ain t nothing but a hound dog
barking all the time

it concludes

when they said you was high classed
well that was just a lie
when they said you was high classed
well that was just a lie
well you ain t ever caught a frog
and you ain t no friend of mine

whisky

[604]

The Greeks had a word for it, and that word was δωροδοκία; the Thais apparently didn’t have a word for it, so borrowed the English word “corruption”, only slightly mangling the pronunciation and adding a few tones.

The funny thing is, to someone raised in the West, corruption is all about secret deals done in smokey back rooms with dodgy handshakes, all kept very hush-hush. In Thailand, however, the blatancy of much of the corruption is almost laughable.

One recent case (of many, many, many) which springs to mind is the decision of the new government to buy a new iPhone and iPad for every member of parliament. Now, let’s forget that most MPs already have a mobile ‘phone, and some may lack the technical nous to use a tablet. The budget allocated for the purchase of the devices was 25% more than the retail cost of buying the absolute top of the range devices in both categories. The excess was undoubtedly destined for somebody’s pocket.

Another case was the estimated cost for building a few kilometres of elevated walkway. The estimated cost was, per kilometer, more than three times the actual cost of a similar, recently completed project. (And that project itself was almost certainly cost-padded for the benefit of someone or other.)

However, the recent actions by Bangkok governor MR Sukhumbhand almost defy belief. (MR are not his initials, they are rather a designation that show him to be of royal decent. He’s actually a great grandson of King Rama V.) Now, as governor of Bangkok there are plenty of issues to be addressed, from the dilapidated state of the pavements to, oh, I don’t know, the omnipresent corruption in official contracts. But rather than address any of these important issues, he decided that his priority was to extend the contract for running the Skytrain for a further 17 years until 2042, even though the current contract still has 13 years left to run. And he didn’t bother with anything so tiresome as a competitive tender. One can only applaud his advanced planning and forward thinking.

I had cynically assumed that MR Sukhumbhand had extended the contract apparently rather prematurely because he was a little short of cash and needed an instant kickback, and given that he’s shortly up for reelection, he needed to line his pockets now, rather than risk not being able to do so later. But a little chicken tells me that it’s not the governor who’s in line for a bumper payout: it’s a Mr. Big, who’s just gotten a little bigger.

[603]

The case of Ah Kong, or Uncle SMS as he’s commonly referred to, is shocking in many ways.

What is known for sure is that an assistant for former Prime Minister Abhisit received four text messages which insulted and (reportedly) threatened Her Majesty The Queen. The text of those messages has not, however, been made public.

What is also known was that Ah Kong is barely literate (he scraped a living as an odd-job man) and he claimed not to know how to send text messages.

What appears to be the case is that those four messages came from his ‘phone, though that is not a 100% certainty; the ‘phones ID could have been faked on the messages.

What is definitely not known for sure is who sent the messages.

Despite the apparent lack of certainty in the evidence, Ah Kong was sentenced to 20 years in prison under Thailand’s draconian lèse majesté laws. Not a great outcome for a sick old man, his body riddled with cancer.

His lawyers made eight applications for him to be released on the grounds of ill health, and so he could receive medical treatment. Each was refused. Apparently a poor, sick man dieing of liver cancer is considered a “flight risk”.

The courts considered his condition “not yet life-threatening” and that “the prison infirmary could meet his medical needs”.

When he recently complained of stomach pains he was given a handful of painkillers. Only three days later was he admitted to the infirmary. It didn’t meet his medical needs, and he promptly died.

***

It’s a bitter twist to think that if he hadn’t appealed against his sentence, he could well have been granted a royal pardon long before now, and he could have spent his final weeks or months with his grandchildren and loving wife, rather than locked up behind bars.

 

[602]

well
it was the one year anniversary
of my coming to live
with master
so i decided
i wanted to celebrate
and make master happy
i decided i d make him
a really special piece of art
i couldn t find any blue paper
but i did see some lovely grey paper
there was a problem though
the paper was rather stuck to the wall
still with a bit of perseverance
i was able to get it off

Ripped wallpaper

nothing can deter a great artist like me

master really liked my work
in fact when he saw it
he cried out
oh my god
i m just that good

Whisky art in grey

master can be a little insensitive at times
if i hear him say
one more time
just how beautiful pocky is
and just how soft her fur
i think i ll bark
loudly

Pocky

pocky is one of the neighbour s
siberian huskies
they have two
along with a hushpuppy dog

she s an absolute whore
for whiskytreats
every time master goes outside
she comes to the fence
hoping master will give her
one of my treats
this makes me quite irate

master says i have jealousy issues
but they re called whiskytreats
for a good reason
not pockytreats

when she comes to the fence
i now try to nip her nose

and what sort of a name is pocky
fancy being named after
a japanese crunchy stick
dipped in chocolate
that s not a proper dog s name
far better to be like me
and named after the scots god

whisky


[601]

a few weeks ago master Whisky Portrait
took me to the vet
he kept telling me to sit
but i didn t want to
the floor was very cold
because of the air conditioning
and anyway
it was a lot more fun
sniffing around the shelves
of toys and food
i should have got suspicious
when master sat down on the floor
but as i always do
i came over and sat on him
then he started hugging me
tightly
next the devil woman came over
and started using me
as a doggy pin cushion
how undignified
what a way to treat a dog of my
class and breeding
of course i snarled at her
once master had let me go
she seemed to think it amusing

and then a couple of weeks ago
master told me that i was going
to stay in a doggy spa
for a few days
while he went away
i was quite excited
i really enjoyed the car ride
sticking my head out of the window
and drooling everywhere
but when we stopped
i realised i d been conned
he was taking me to the vet again
this time we went into a back room
where there were a couple of other dogs
one was a big old black one
whose back legs were paralysed
and who was incontinent
he d done a big poo on the floor
he was a sorry sight
still he was lucky
he was going back to his master
the next day

i can t say i particularly enjoyed
my stay at the doggy spa
though i did lose a few pounds
around the ribs
and i was fortunate there weren t
any pomeranians staying there

when master came to pick me up
after his trip i got really excited
and whoops i lost control of my bladder
three times in the vet s
and a few more times outside
i didn t know i could make so much wee
now if only my wee
were as valuable as my pure

***

needless to say
i ve had a lot of enquiries about
my latest artistic creations
the world will be pleased to hear that
like picasso before me
i m having a blue period
the box the mosquito repellent
came in was just the right shade
to create another masterpiece
so I recovered it from the wastepaper bin
clearly master doesn t have an eye
for art and had just thrown it away

Whisky's Blue Period

of course
creating great art is
an emotionally draining experience
so i needed a little lie down
once i d finished.

whisky


[600]

america s favourite dog
Whisky Portraitc est moi
who d have thunk it

Whisky, America's most popular dog

of course
i ve never been to america
i really don t like what they do
to you at immigration
i don t mind taking off my collar
but taking my coat off so it can be x rayed
really wouldn t be very nice
and as for a tsa agent
sticking his hand
up my bottom to steal my pure
well that s totally unacceptable
he should wait until i poo
just like master does

funny thing is
earlier this week i was pooing and
my pure was pure white
master tells me it s because of
the stinky bone i d been eating
it was the biggest bone i ve ever seen
i think it must have been a dinosaur bone

the favourite dog competition was stiff

Favourite dogs

but i hear that that lassie
he s really a bitch

i only learned about my new fame
from watching fox news
the funny thing is
30 minutes of watching
and not a single story about foxes
what a swizz

whisky


[599]

I sit here in the half gloom. Two green demon eyes stare at me from across the room, unflickering, mocking and taunting me. Over the past 24 hours my emotions have been in turmoil. To start with was the disbelief: how could this be happening to me for, is it, the fourth time this year? Then came the anger: I hope the perpetrators rot for all eternity in the lowest circle of hell. But not the “fun” kind of hell with fire and devils with pointy tridents prodding you. Let them be trapped in a cold, featureless hell – a single, silent white room devoid of any decoration or ornament where nobody will hear their tormented sobs and screams. But before then, let us hope there are infested by a plague of boils, savaged by rabid monitor lizards, and finally succumb to the inevitable in the most hideous of demises – whatever that may be. Tickling to death, probably.

Sinéad O’Connor goes on about how it’s been seven days and fifteen hours, and I sympathise with her, but what does she know about real agony and despair? Me, I know the time down to the minute since I lost what is so important to me – not a rough approximately to the nearest hour.

I feel a sliver of hope as I think about bargaining with the Flying Spaghetti Monster for the world to be put back just the way it was, but I realise he has other things to do. I also think about contacting the local telephone company, but that would be equally futile. Life has become a hopeless, bleak mere existence.

For the umpteenth time I think “oh, I’ll just check that on the computer” or “I can look it up on the Internet” or “I just need to check my email” or “I wonder if it’s finished downloading yet”, but am soon plunged back into the deep pit of despair, and cry “Why, FSM? Why? Why do you allow bad things to happen to good people?” But His Noodliness never answers.

So, now I pace around, tortured by a sense of life’s futility, barely daring to hope that soon the stolen copper telephone cable will be replaced and that once more my modem will smile upon me with four flickering green eyes.

[598]

On February 8th our fragrant lady Prime Minister, Yingluck Shinawatra, was spotted heading upstairs in the Four Seasons hotel. The businessman who spotted her secret visit whilst sitting in the hotel’s coffee shop was attacked immediately after she left, though that obviously is a coincidence. After all, people get beaten up and have a gun drawn on them in five star luxury hotel coffee shops all the time.

When the news leaked out some smutty minds thought she might be having a secret tryst when she should have been appearing in parliament. (Though not legally married, she lives in sin with a man and has a son by him.) When it was further revealed that there were actually seven men there with her in the hotel room, the same smutty minds leapt to the obvious conclusion that she has a Snow White fetish. Kinky!

Two weeks later the Prime Ministeress revealed the truth on her Facebook page: she was having a meeting with prominent business executives. She made it absolutely clear that the meeting was not in the slightest unethical, and certainly didn’t involved any conflict of interest, and most definitely did not in any way shape or form concern the valuation of land to be used as floodways or water retention areas, which is good.

So far the only businessman who has revealed he was at the meeting is the President of Sansiri, a major real estate developer that happens to have built lots of moobaans on the floodway to the north and east of Bangkok and which could potentially be very badly affected by the government’s flood prevention plans.

I’m sure it’s a complete coincidence, but since the end of last year the Sansiri share price has risen 61%. (For comparison, the share price of Land & House – a very similar company, but without heavy investment on the floodway – has risen 10%. The SET index over the same period has risen 12%) No hint of dodgy dealings here whatsoever.

***

During last week’s televised parliamentary debate Deputy Prime Minister Chalerm appeared unsteady on his feet, slurred his words, had a flushed face, and repeatedly harangued the leader of the opposition. One MP rushed to the outrageous conclusion that he was drunk – though the fact the she thought he smelled of booze might have prompted her in the direction.

When he sobered up Chalerm later explained that he suffered from an inner ear condition which made him unsteady on his feet. So that’s all right, then.

His response to the scurrilous accusation of his having been three sheets to the wind has been to start legal action against seven newspapers and a couple of opposition MPs. He said “I am not trying to intimidate the press. I am only preserving my rights.” So that’s all right, too.

[597]

Late last year a gang of thieves broke into the house of a civil servant, Supoj Saplom, whilst he was attending his daughter’s wedding. They were rather surprised to find sacks of cash all over the place – an estimated total value of somewhere between 700 million and 1 billion baht (that’s £14.6 to £20.9 million). They weren’t equipped to steal such a large sum, so just grabbed what they could and fled the scene.

Supoj initially claimed that just one million Baht had been stolen, though later changed his story to say it was his daughter’s sinsot (bride price). It seems a little strange though that more than 17 million Baht has been recovered from those gang members who have so far been arrested.

It also is a little strange that the bands on the notes recovered apparently relate to money for certain state railway projects, and Supoj just happens to be Permanent Secretary for Transport.

On investigation, it turned out that his personal bank accounts had about 20 million Baht (£420,000) in them, but Supoj claims that this was money he received for working overtime. (It seems civil servants are surprisingly well remunerated.)

The panel charged with investigating Supoj’s surprising riches has now decided to abandon its investigation, being unable to determine the source of his wealth.

There are a number of possible explanations for what happened. The following spring to mind:

  1. There never was all that money, and he was set up by someone bearing a grudge
  2. He was “looking after” the money for someone more powerful the he
  3. He has the sort of friends who can influence the outcome of official investigations.

Whatever the truth, it all looks rather fishy.

And the fact that the investigation has been closed down after only three months suggests that the government isn’t all that interested in tackling corruption – so no surprise there.

[596]

when master picks up my poo Whisky Portrait
in the morning
he s usually very happy
probably thinking about
all the money
he s going to get for it
sometimes he sings a song

here we go gathering poo in may

is one of his favourites
he also sings

p p p pick up a poo poo
a lovely big poo poo
when you pick up a p p p poo poo
there s so much more to enjoy
it s bigger
so delicious
chocolate flavour through and through
when you feel a little p peckish
what s bigger and best for you

and sometimes it s

bringing in the poo
bringing in the poo
we shall come rejoicing
bringing in the poo

who knew there were so
many songs about pure finding

whisky

[595]