Why superstitious Asians need a good kicking
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THERE'S a rumour bouncing around the Internet in Asia that there will be a total of five disasters related to the five cartoon mascots of the Olympics (the Sichuan earthquake was one of the disasters).
This is silly. I don't believe in bad luck, and have removed the Olympic mascot figurines from my desk merely for dusting.
But it's interesting. Here in Asia, we do not succumb to primitive superstitions involving black cats and ladders and so on. No -- we succumb to modern superstitions involving licensed characters and lucky bullets.
One of my favourite examples is the "guaranteed" good luck services offered at the Sathit Chonlantan temple in Pattani, Thailand.
It is widely accepted that Thai soldiers and police officers who have obtained tattoos from the temple have excellent luck, and those who also receive a swift kick from the head monk become bullet-proof and immune to shoot-out-related health problems such as death. But it only works if the head monk kicks you using his right leg.
I am not making this up. So many uniformed men have been flocking to the temple to be made invulnerable that monk-tattooists lowered their needles and invested in an automatic tattooing machine.
But the swift kick in the lower parts from the head monk cannot be done by machine, and so still has to be done manually, er, podially.
The temple is also famous for dispensing "anti-violence bullets". Instead of gunpowder, the cartridges are filled with 108 herbs and invisible spiritual power. Carrying an anti-violence bullet means that you become immune to being shot, although, for your convenience and pleasure, you can still blast away at other people.
Malaysia is another place where people are superstitious in a modern way.
I once reported on an incident in which 13 people got into trouble for working as unlicensed lottery number tipsters in Selangor. The problem was not their accuracy level (supposedly very high) but the fact that they were all dead at the time.
Thirteen ghosts in graves in Bukit Jagra transmitted lucky numbers into the brains of visitors, who then went off and amassed fortunes, locals said.
They did this so well that there were soon queues of people at the graveyard, and a waiting system had to be organised.
You got a numbered ticket, just like you would get from, say, a mobile phone repair shop -- only it was for getting betting advice from rotting zombies in a graveyard (hey, this is Asia).
Sadly, local officials eventually decided that this was all too esoteric for Hi-Tech Malaysia, Country of the Future and Birthplace of Laksa Noodle Soup.
They turned up at the graveyard with hammers. They demolished the site, thus halting the operation and leaving the 13 ghost tipsters, er, dead. Well, deader, anyway.
Disappointed would-be lottery customers went off to pick their numbers by the use of more rational, scientific methods (many of which involved the use of chicken entrails).
Now I need to stop writing this column, because it is nearly lunchtime, and I need to make sure my luck is flowing.
How shall I do it? Buy a lottery ticket? Invest in a tattoo? Fly to Thailand and pay for a swift kick in the nether regions from a monk?
Surely there must be someone who would supply me with such a service for nothing.
You'll kick yourself if you waste time reading our columnist's website: www.vittachi.com.
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