Saturday, November 13, 2010
The road to tomorrow.- La route du lendemain.-
I must be on the edge of something, something BIG, just imagine MOI, the King of Losers, feeling this way, may be, I will come up with a cure for the addicted Facebook's Farmville app addicts; YES, I am ready, never been so ready in my life, Lord, am I ready. I even started writing a collection of short stories titled: The summer of our dreams, (Summer 2009), YES, the wheels of time keep on inexorably turning, and I do feel so old, the years have somehow passed filled with the tug of SHOULD, and the pull of WOULD, la vie continue, (life goes on), of course, there are so many balls in the air, and so many different areas of my life that require discipline, it makes me tired just to think about it.
Early in life, I had expected to be a world traveler, an investigative reporter, a restaurateur, a stand-up comedian, a best selling author, and an international lover. Life unfolded, and those dreams faded until last summer (2009), when mid-life desperation set in, and I promised myself to reflect on my own life (the man in the mirror), where am I going?, and coming? aaaah the frailties, the lapses, the mistakes, the lost opportunities, the peccadilloes, and suddenly, I realised that I do not have all the time in the world like when I was 20 years old, I still love beauty, whether it is in nature, literature, women, or art, still love naughty, if not risque double entendres, witty repartees, enjoy flirting, cherish beautiful souls, gentle, and kind hearts, I love music, Konpa, Zenglen Always is quintessential in my life, but here in Afrika, I am discovering new sounds (Bongo Flava/Afro Pop), and various Afrikan artists.
Notate bene: For some obscure reason, I have always thought that the plural of peccadillo is: peccadilli.
The son also rises.-
Old age has NOT been too humane, and sympathetic to Ole G, my son, all but twelve (12) years old, beats me at everything these days: word games, card games, board games, puzzles, running, jogging, video games, he is also the editor in chief of this here blog, you know the one with the red marker, the one who double checks my grammar, and painfully shakes his head whenever I misspell one (1) word, or two (2), if not ten (10) words, the one who does not comprehend, my ever lasting use of double negatives in an English sentence, according to him, I have never been known to use a word, that might send a reader to the dictionary. My adored, beloved Prince, Mr. Junior editor, is a bit too whimsical, and credulous, to know, that vye chòdyè, fè bon bouyon, (vieux pots, bonne soupe/ old pots, make delicious soup).
Note: Did I just misspell: MISSPELL ?
These happy days are yours and mine.-
I have learned to count my blessings, I no longer cha-cha my chances, and have come to actualise how valuable I AM as a human being, (nothing more, nothing less), and how much I have going for me, my Colgate mazora (toothless) smile has returned, the sun broke out, the birds are tweeting, once again, I am hearing the harmony, and the melody, what a symphony! I do take pride, in the fact that my actual age, is lower than my IQ score (intelligence quotient), and finally, I am able to move forward to the life that God intended for me, with grace, strength, courage, confidence, and all that jazzy Konpa! Just let me sing unending songs:
♫♫ My heart is bursting Lord
To tell of all You've done ♪♪
Of how You've changed my life, ♫♪ and wiped away the past ♪♫
Oh I wanna shout it out ♪♪
♪♪♫ From every roof top sing ♫♪
For now I know that God is for me not against me ♪♫♪♪...
Only one good: Knowledge, only one evil: Ignorance.-
You know that ole cliche: Ignorance is bliss, I just do not get it, (cretinism is de rigueur in my life), I will get one (1), or two (2) things, every millennium or so, and then I go back to darkness, total complete stupidity, blatant ignorance, and since I know nothing except the fact of my ignorance, an old crony had to explain to me, that the aforementioned truism is biblical, she quoted the epistle of the Thessalonians (4:13), or Corinthians something, anyways according to Madame la Catholique, it means: someone/anyone who is unaware of what is happening in his/her environment or milieu, will be forgiven by the Almighty, and cannot possibly be held responsible for his/her actions, furthermore she added: the Good Lord protects, and blesses the innocent, the idiots & the morons. I know, I am blessed because of the latter two (2), Lord, thank you, for my countless blessings...
Let satire be my theme song.-
Contained within this blog, are various, and most likely fortuitous thoughts or inklings that may prove to regale. I like to laugh at myself, and I hope you do too. However, I also hope that you are encouraged to think hard, and think well, (faites travailler vos méninges). May my life purpose extend to this blog, it can be hard to keep your sense of humour in these strenuous times, but it pays to laugh each day, NOT laughing can have negative consequences on your mental health, and do remember, to mock those who take themselves too seriously. There is no controlling the unrolling of your fate, my friends, who knows what is written in the magic book, the start of something, the heart of something...Must be SOMETHING BIG!
Mots et maux de l'Afrique.-
Let us start with the language barrier that I seem to encounter more often than not. Tanzania's 2 official languages are Kiswahili, and English, about 70% of the people speak fluent English, but all Tanzanians speak Kiswahili, I can usually navigate around the language barrier in my international circle of friends, but the minute I hit a local bar/resto, or soko (at the outdoor market), I am completely lost, there is a strong British influence in Tanzania, the so-called "King's English". Cookies are biscuits; gasoline is petrol; french fries are chips; the hood of a car is a bonnet; the trunk of a car is the boot; as an aside, they drink warm beer, and warmer sodas in Tanzania, one has to ask/if not beg for baridi bia/soda (cold beer/soda), otherwise, we are talking boiling hot Coca Cola, and 90 degrees F Heineken. I do need a dictionary just to order a beer, five (5) plus months living in this country, and counting, I still do not know the difference between a stubbie, pot, schooner, long neck or jug love, Say what?
Looking smart, does not mean that one is cultured, or intelligent, it simply means that one is elegant, impeccably dressed, BMW's, Mercedes', Porsches' are smart cars, not because of technology or engineering, but because they are expensive, and look good, and please do not ask for a "pitcher of beer", otherwise, the bartender or waiter may think that you are asking for a "picture" of the beer bottle.
Slogan du jour.-
Just the other day, I noticed a dala dala (tap-tap, public transportation minivan) with the following slogan, artistically painted on the back window: I short the Sheriff, of course the rascal in me had to ask the driver: Did you short-change the Sheriff?, the malcontent riposted: No, I am a huge fan of Bob Marley, I short the Sheriff, is my favourite Marley's song, and that was the end of my enquiry.
Affaires Politiques.- Koze Politik.- Political Affairs.-
At my best, I have never aimed or claimed to be anything more than a cretin who happens to be interested in politics, by blogging about les affaires politiques, I am just trying to spark a bit of debate in this little corner of the web. Politics is not, and should not be just about political parties, and personalities, it is NOT about meta narratives, and manifestos. It is about values, ethics, and issues, and the battle for control over our own lives. Throughout history, the vast majority of people do not, and have never adhered to a single political philosophy. We hold values, and we care deeply about issues.
Reformist, and rebel without a cause.- San Manman
I have been reproached of being a reformist, also have been denounced as a revolutionary, btw, I have been called a few other names that I cannot possibly divulge here, after all this is a family oriented blog, for now, let us just answer to the preceding charges. I am indeed both (reformist & revolutionary), first, and foremost, I assert, and asseverate, in the democratic process, and struggle. Democracy is being allowed to vote for the candidate you dislike least, I am a reformist, because I do not want dechoukaj (koupe tèt, boule kay/burn baby, burn), and I do not believe in bouyi vide (rushing things). Revolution, and the democratic struggle go hand in hand, revolution is not a moniker for violence. I want a revolutionary change in Ayitian society, in the way we think, operate, officiate, act, react, behave, and the way we manage, negotiate, and serve. A revolution of the mind, of the "Ayitian being", I am a revolutionary because of what I want to see in Ayitian society, and because of the changes I want to see in Ayitian politics, and politicians. So, I am a revolutionary, but I am not going to start stockpiling weapons of mass destruction, to coin a cliche, we need to win hearts, and minds, and please do pardon my naivete, but it is incongruous, to keep on ripping the dateless, and perdurable suspects: Minustah, the US government, the CIA, the French government, Aristide, Lavalas, Préval, or the NGO's.
Sans respecter ni son sang, ni sa gloire.-
The current political situation in Ayiti, is not completely hopeless or lifeless, five (5) years of Préval's ineptitude, the post J-12 wretchedness, the Facebook induced Wyclef's depression, the cholera epidemic, and hurricane Toma, did not bring us to Dante's 9th (ninth) circle of Hell, we have certainly reached the 7th (seventh) circle: Violence against self, violence against neighbours, violence against God, Although, I have always felt that any Ayitians who decide to run for president, should automatically, be disqualified from ever doing so, however, there is a new exhilarating voice rising on the Ayitian political horizon: MICHEL JOSEPH MARTELLY, it would be a gaffe, if not a colossal erratum, to underestimate his popularity, or to belittle his persona, HE is a fiercely intelligent man, the latest straw to stir the drink, he has grabbed the bull by the horns, by running the most well organised Presidential campaign in Ayitian history, this is a movement, a joyful, and hearty crusade, but I cerebrate that, Mr. Martelly, is still not aware of his own strength, however this is the start of something, something BIG.
Pardon the unpardonable.-
During this electoral epoch, Ayiti's so called media, and punditry remain moribund, and the bright lights illuminate brightly on the so-called pundits/journalists. Although there are some talented journalists, and other online independent contributors, and bloggers out there, "the institution" itself is stuck in a hopeless, self-serving, tenured cul-de-sac, and is failing in its job to properly inform, educate, discuss, debate, and entertain.
Martelly is being asked questions that are totally in apropos to the way he will run the country if elected. Rather than ask what is he actually planning for the tent city dwellers, jobs, education, and the many woes of Ayitian society, he was asked about his past behaviour, imagine how the debate could be shaped if instead of questions about his onstage persona, we had questions about health care, imagine if instead of questions about mini-skirts, and tanga bikinis, we had questions about decentralisation, the restavek issues, pedophilia, women's rights...we are dumbing it down, do the Ayitian journalists really think that, we are more interested in Martelly's past moral hazards, than the way he will run the country if elected?
*Restavek*: Slave child in Ayiti (minor/non aged); from French: Rester avec, esclave mineur.
Mes amis, de votre galère, un forçat vient de se sauver.-
For decades if not centuries, the narratives, the memes, the discussions of our political, and social life are/were written in stone, and blood, we have, I fear, confused power with greatness, we have somehow learned to accept the daily violence, the mediocrity, the partisan voye monte, tripotay, zen nan shoublak, controversies of Ayitian political life, and everyday life, as a course of conduct, in lieu of bona fide, honorable, civil discussions. Ayitian politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, hatred, and schizophrenia, show business for devious, and treacherous people, our media is catering to those who vote on personalities, and family's surnames, the same voices, and there are only about a few of them, continue to define what is important or useful, or worthy of discussion, and the few organs of the mediocre, unprofessional, and uninformed media, keep churning, half-baked infos, bias opinions, and other juicy tidbits. The absurdity of Ayitian journalists can at times be astounding, in the Ayitian media universe, even a loser like MOI can be accredited as a reporter.
Note: Voye monte: yellow journalism; tripotay: gossips; zen nan shoublak: tattletale/rumormonger.
Histrionic pleas to the Ayitian media, and Ayitian voters.-
My plea to the media: Most if not all, of the articles/essays/interviews that I have read, listened to, have left me disconcerted, and perplexed, please do ask some ad rem questions about policies, and stop treating this election, like a campaign for the King of kanaval, it is after all, our country at stake, ten (10) damn million lives to spare.
Préval cannot prevail.-
Ardent plea to the Ayitian voters: with hope, and virtue, it is time again, to VOTE, smoke and mirrors, once again, it is somewhat ironic that the election which seems to be getting a lot of International coverage is one which the majority of voters think is unfair, and rigged by the Préval's government, as to barely justify being called an election at all. None the less, on 28 November, I would like to see the people go out, and vote en masse, remembering the enmity of the Préval's government, and bringing them down, Préval cannot prevail! In my lifetime, I would like to see a Ayiti, in this 21st century, which is progressive, sustainable, and radical. Whoever wins the presidential election, I want to claim, shout, and sing in my tenor voice: ♪♫ Mwen fèt nan yon bel peyi,♫ yo rele li AYITI... ♫♪
Post-scriptum: Just wondering, why is it that, it is always the ugly people (like MOI), who decide to be nudist.