The Ides Of March

There is superstition go the lyrics from a very good Stevie Wonder song and truer observations are hard to come by as there is indeed superstition all around us in our lives and our customs.

Take last Friday for example, the thirteenth, and think about all the karma or lack of it associated with such a date. For that matter, think about karma itself, for what is karma if not fate?

Traditional customs, superstitions, obeah, doens, La Diablesse, all are part of the folklore of our region and the analogy exists in every known society. Today being March fifteenth, I am reminded of the soothsayer in Julius Caesar who uttered the memorable line "beware the ides of March". Perhaps a little superstition of my own?

Not really.

Superstition and religion are closely linked. Some say that religion is superstition. Some who I respect and admire hold such a view, so I am left to ponder the choice between embracing the idea of a supreme being that I cannot detect with my senses as reality, as opposed to my firm non belief in ghosts and spirits and omens and signs and obeah and such rubbish.

Come on man, show me a ghost and I'll believe; show me the witch flying on the broomstick and I will do what she says for fear that she will burn down my house. Just how much of a fool must I be to believe in such rubbish which folklore has handed down to us?

The truth is a lot simpler: we are each and every one a product of our lives and how we handle them. Sometimes fate intervenes, but we each have our fate and fate is karma and karma is out of our control, so when bad things happen we deal with them and hopefully live to smile and laugh another day, and forget about superstition and omens and somewhere along the line keep on believing there is a God.

Talk about paradoxes.

Anyone ready to come to my next Friday thirteenth party?

The Mini Stress Of Fine Ants

It is no secret that I hold all local politicians in high contempt, but the mouthings of  our current  finance minister have from day one of her tenure put her at the top of my list. 

Along such lines I am here to tell you that some fed up person wrote to and was published in today's local media expressing his or her amazement at the "brazenness with which the Finance Minister tries to pull the wool over the citizen's eyes", in reference to that person's rationale in stating that the CLF meltdown has nothing to do with the global one.

I couldn't agree with the writer more. I too am fed up, and I don't understand. You see, I'm told by some who have known the person referred to of the qualities and the academic achievements and the potential which they saw; and comparing that to what I see and hear is cocoa and zabrico. 

I view the person as a subservient servant of her boss the PM, who has had words put into her mouth concerning a subject of which she displays little knowledge and certainly no experience, and who does not seem to realize just how synchophantic she comes across. Something is wrong.

Which brings me to the question: when one goes to work for a people or a company or an army, can the policies of the leader be sustained ultimately? Or, more to the point, when the question of obey the boss or do the right thing arises, how should one choose? Is blind allegiance an option? Remember Nazi Germany?

Anybody who knows me knows my answer to such a question. 

As for those I talked to who knew her, I wonder what their current opinion of the mini stress of fine ants is.

Something To Remember

The pomp and ceremony of today's US Presidential Inauguration and the attendant inaugural address is something to remember, and so stirred me that I got to comparing big and small: how big they are in the US and how small we seem to make ourselves in T&T. Not just in size but in spirit, and in our ability and willingness to be able to decide right from wrong and do the right thing at all times in all circumstances.

Comparisons from Obama's address to Manning's words escape me, as I have none of our Prime Minister's speeches. But I can compare the cheering hundreds of thousands who braved cold weather and other inconveniences to go and take genuine joy in the election of what many believe to be a true leader, to the  five thousand or so people in Woodford Square some of whom are paid to go, or get a free t-shirt (PNM, of course), or free rum to drink to celebrate putting a man to do a job which he seems incapable of doing.

They really love and respect our PM. I'm certain that any of them would be willing to sacrifice a kidney for the man should he need one.

The formula in infantile politics such as we endure in T&T is simple: give the grassroots exactly what they want and retain power at any cost without regard to what is right or wrong, what is moral or immoral. The bottom line is to stay in charge, so sell out everything in order to do so.

Such people will go to great lengths to preserve the status quo. They are the enemies of change who offer little hope for a better future for their people through the old system of patronage and greed, increasing every day.

Those who lose their piece of the pie at election time done vex. Look at comparative concession speeches in recent elections, Panday's losing rant versus McCain's endorsement in defeat. Doesn't that comparison sum it all up? 

So we suffer, on and on without an end in sight, and we struggle, and we hope for leadership unforthcoming to take us to where we aspire to be.

Yet we take it because as the man say, we like it so.

Corporal Brown's Lucky Guys Late Lime

The following story is true:

Back in 2002 an old friend and I had a troubling experience. In these times it seems almost sacrilege to make fun of trauma. Still, the following rendition is exactly how it went down to my recollection. It comes out funny because nobody died or was raped or robbed.

So may I introduce to you the act you've known for all these years, Corporal Brown's Lucky Guys Late Lime!

Our heroes are having a drink, other guests have departed and the conversation has become deeper. The candles have all mostly burned down and the music is muted.

Suddenly, real action!

PAUL: (taking off over the back of the couch and running out of the room towards the stairs outside) OGODOGODOGODOGODAHAHAAAAAOGODOGOD!

Geoff looks up from his canvas chair at a small caliber pistol barrel (is that a toy? he thinks). Two young men are facing him, menacingly pointing what he assumes to be guns. Both have their faces covered over the nose with scarves, like old time cowboys up to no good, red scarf on the one closer to him, he's taller than the other one, big nose, both in jeans, tee shirts and sneakers.

Geoff is mildly suprised to find himself facing such a situation, but retains his calm. The men say nothing, continuing to point their weapons at him. He has had quite a few rums and it seems fitting to say:

GEOFF: Well, one man out, so I think you should back off.

To his delight and suprise, that is exactly what the would-be robbers do: they both walk backward toward the balcony, jump over, and are gone. Meanwhile, Paul continues to bellow on the stairs outside. Geoff gets to his feet and walks out to the balcony, looks out and sees nobody. The crisis is over.

PAUL: Geoff, Geoff yuh aright Geoff? GEOFF! GEOFF!

GEOFF: Yeh Paul is okay, they gone.

PAUL: Oh God, O God...

GEOFF: Is okay Paul. You could come back down.

Paul descends the stairs and reenters the apartment, but remains poised to run again.

PAUL: Oragh! Oragh! Geoff! Oh God Geoff.

GEOFF: Is okay Paul, calm yuself, is over.

PAUL: Uh never coming up on Fort George again. Never! AH! AH!

GEOFF: Have a drink and calm yuself.

PAUL: Buh Geoff, yuh doe know, this is the third time that something bad happen to me on Fort George. Uh never coming back here again.

Geoff begins to close and lock the wrought iron gate between the living room and the patio.

GEOFF: I better lock up.

PAUL: Aragh! Aragh! What a scene! O God Geoff.

GEOFF: Les have a drink.

PAUL: No, no uh doe want a drink. Aragh!

GEOFF: Try to relax, Paul. Is over. We safe. We better lock the gate.

Geoff moves to the front gate and retreving the keys locks it.

GEOFF: They might try to come back that way.

Geoff sits down in the same place he was when the incident began.

GEOFF: Le'e take a drink.

PAUL: Uh doe want no drink. Uh not coming back on Fort George ever again.

GEOFF: Cool yuself nuh Paul, is alright.

Our heroes then settle down, and yes, Paul did have another drink and yes too, he has been back, for as said, that incident took place in 2002 and by the karma of Corporal Brown's Lucky Guys Late Lime our heroes have both lived to tell the tale and sail the seas of life into 2009 and perhaps beyond.

On occasion, levity is a good vehicle of expression.