Ainsi parla Ole G .- Thus spoke Ole G

On devine, on suppose, on imagine, et souvent, on se trompe.-

Never intended to exacerbate mi familia, and friends by blogging, and it would be ignorant, if not arrogant of MOI, to posit, that anybody's core tenets, are aligned with mine; being called an elephantine pedant by a few, is not apropos; I am just weaving tales, for your entertainment, and my mental health, I muse to amuse (could not resist), and because I think that I do have a rather peculiar panorama of every day life.
Conflictingly, I think this blog is serving its purpose by getting the readers, and members to speak up, to think, smile, and even laugh; of course at times, I may have lacked a certain prudery, but that is MOI (Ole G). From my perspective, an unexamined life is NOT worth living, this god damn life is about speaking out your own ideals, ask questions, challenge the norms, the memes, provoking thoughts, des idées qui dérangent? c'est qu'il y a de quoi, it is about the tangibles, the abstracts, and of course: morals, and ethics, and figuring out why things are the way they are on your own.

Ole G: Noiriste, tout miel, tout fiel; mange de tout, boit de tout, lit de tout.-

I am older than a vast number of the human race currently living on planet earth (sniff), and vanité des vanités, (vanity of vanities), it took me a while to realize that my ponderings are pure reverie, yon milyon ti piti tankou m, can not reverse nor prevent Ayitian politicians' recklessness, and self-serving behaviour, and since my personal emotional energy is my one, and only currency, I am tired of being morally, and ethically bankrupt.
The problem with us Ayitians, we never ask: why? when? where? or how?, and we more than often, allow others (read Bill Clinton) to dictate us, we are constantly too sluggish, strikingly intellectually lazy, notably corrupt, unreasonably bias, inordinately prejudiced, if not racist, and/or exorbitantly set up in our own third world mentality, to find out our own answers.
Sometimes a messy situation is best left to just be a messy situation, and it it is NOT my nature to make rash judgments on anyone, however, I have decided to put Mr. Martelly's, bourgeois sans joie/ boujwa san jwa entourage to the practical test, to poke at them on their pedestals, just a few zingers; by doing so, I believe that I am challenging myself further, and answering my own grumbles, if you do so, some of your own questions might be answered. This is perhaps why at times, I find it so painful to write about Ayitian politik.

By birth, by heart, by soul, and by choice, I am a 1946 dauphin (Ref:1), my political dogma are indelible, and are not merely the result of reading or thinking, but arise from my father; but firstly I would like to express my exasperation, if not fury, at the espektak & eskandal (spectacle & scandal) in Ayiti circa September 2011, just four (4) months into his presidency, the elected prezidan, and his minions are starting to look like relatives who came for the holidays, and overstayed their welcome.

Ref.1.- 1946 dauphin: Children of the revolutionaries of the social, political, cultural bloodless  Ayitian Revolution of 1946 (Ayiti), some refer to us as noiriste, and/or noir unique.

Indignez-vous, Indigènes, les cigales ont chanté.- The cicadas have sung.-

To the uninitiated, my aforementioned narration may appear to be an unwarranted assertion, however, I will attempt to demonstrate that it is not. It is a communiqué (kominike) that it has been a tumultuous year in Ayiti, surrealism, and idiocy continue to reign supreme, we are all satiated by the ineptitude, and malevolence, Ayitians of all ages, are greatly piqued, and fatigued with the political dysfunction (see note). I have begun to contemplate the direction our fellow countrymen are moving, there seems to be so much enmity, and animosity, so much hostility, that the neo/crypto apologists, and revisionists of a certain bygone era are having a field day.

Notate bene.- Because of a gridlocked Parliament, as of 23 September, 2011, Mr. Martelly still could not fill his cabinet.

In previous postings, I have pointed out the internecine political environment in Ayiti, and scores of legitimate scholars have gleefully done so, but I honestly did not register this kind of polarity on my Ayiti anger radar. In that light, it is not only proper but necessary to ask: how enraged must our people be that they believe killing each other would resolve their frustrations? Have things become so unsettling in our country, that people have succumbed to abductions, rapes, slanderings, and plunderings to fix their personal problems?.

Ils se lèchent déja les babines.- They are already licking their chops.-

A burlesque grandstander, concocted by a hedonistic milieu, at his very best, the "Konpa Prezidan" understood the Ayitian psyche (à la Papa Doc, and Titid), at his very worst, he disrobed, cross-dressed, and cussed on stage, it was all part of the show, to entertain or so he claimed, somehow he managed to be a success, he even prospered, his stardom was a rehearsal of greater things to come, but good old Ayitian sophistry can only take you so far; In olden days, Afrikan tribes kept village elders around to remind them which foot to begin the ritual dance, but in one of the most fickle kind of Ayitian fauna, Tèt Kale, full of braggadocio, has surrounded himself with a scheming, conniving, ambitious, and formidable petite junte (kitchen cabinet), comprised of upper middle class and/or mostly light-skinned young Turks, suffocating with lust, and gluttony, awaiting for concessions & government contracts, treaties signing powers, exemption from customs, and who knows, may be an ambassadorship; the m'as-tu-vu parasites will overload his triumphal chariot (à la Bennett) 'till it capsizes. I cannot help but be reminded of a line from one of George Lucas' classic film (The Empire Strikes Back) : You will never find a more wretched hive of scum, and villainy.

Historically, voting such a verdant candidate into higher office, has always been a "high risk vote", but the exhibitionist had a certain allure, eloquent in French, and Kreyòl, fluent in English, conversant in Spanish, during the 2010/2011 presidential campaign, he enchanted, and bewitched Ayitian voters, and enthralled la presse nationale & internationale (the national & international media), his moxie, and chutzpah made him the best choice, at least according to 67% of the voters. A sympathetic gazetteer once penned: "Mizik/music in Haiti, even more so than other forms of art around the world, is a deeply unifying cultural force, it is political, Martelly's stardom gave him rare agency in a culture with intricate class boundaries" (fin de citation).

Certes, urbane thinkers, will scoff disparagingly at the fact that I have expressed such disputatious if not litigious opinions. However, one should ask not whether what I have written is moot or contentious, but whether it is a verity. If it be the case, then surely it should not be suppressed. Subsequently, all I am asking from/of the swashbucklers is to put some semblance of decency in Ayitian politics. Was It George Orwell (Ref:2) who said: "If liberty means anything at all, it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear", and to the scoffers I riposte: "There shall come in the last days, scoffers, walking after their own lusts, and saying, "Where is the promise of HIS coming?" (2 Peter 3:1-10).

Ref.2.- George Orwell: British author, and journalist, best known for the novel "1984".

Blabber, chatter, jabber...

Not a chance in hell, Ole G is still kicking.- Nou la pi rèd.-

I have not posted for over two months, have had a problem posting, received, and continue to receive countless private emails, inquiring if I were alive, and still breathing?, did I buy the farm?, kick the bucket? or am I simply comatose?, to paraphrase Mark Twain: Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated, and to reiterate, the one being referred to as "what's her name", my one, and only daughter, my breath: Never give up nor surrender, reload, and come back stronger. I am back, still wasting valuable bits, and bytes of Internet bandwidth that could be put to much better use, it has been a very tough past 2 years, but somehow, I feel compelled, to say that I am incredibly blessed, I have a lot of comforts that many in this world do not, and God only knows, that I am not worthy.

I do write daily, and the ideas always seem clinquant, venerable, if not stately, when they are flowing from my thick skull, to my fingertips, to the keyboard, I do have a rule about waiting one day (1), or ten days (10) to post anything, it just so happens, that this time, the axiomatic, one day, or ten days turned into sixty plus days (60 +), Ole G had to wonder why oh why, nothing seems to pass muster when he comes back to whatever he has written the day or the prior week? had to wonder, if maybe, he has not been too critical of his cherished blog? Was he been self-conscious about the fact that he needs a pair of reading glasses, and a magnifier to read the scriptures? after all, Microsoft Spell Check does not always catch everything, and I hate it when or if I come back to a post a couple of days later, and see a glaring mistake in syntax or spelling, my ultimate issue, my dégringolade, may reside in the fact that my one, and only son, all but 12 years old, the syntax expert on this here blog, has abruptly resigned from his unofficial position of correcteur par excellence, due to lack of benefits, and according to him, at the very least, he was raised right, and can no longer take the "bull de crap", we shall have to blame his mama on this one, since I have never meant, nor intended, to raise such a virtuous, and gallant gentleman.

Addendum.- Have you noticed that lately, Ole G has been referring to himself in the third person singular? can anybody spell: NARCISSISM?

The prodigal son, has become obsessed with The Humanities, chiefly Greek mythology: Zeus, and Eros, en passant par Aphrodite; my brain simply is not big enough to keep up with his fresh, ever-expanding cerebellum, he is asking questions that never even occurred to me, and he is asking them at a rate faster than I can Google, yet, as with any future scholar, he has realised: the more he learns, the less he knows, thus he continues to bombard me with increasingly complex, and somewhat baffling questions. He drills me day, and night, like I am a walking encyclopedia, and while over the years, I have always enjoyed to partake in some colloquies, even have reveled in dialogues about abstract concepts, nonetheless, I have realised that, this particular father & son/coming of age tête-à-tête, will go around, and around in twisted circles, until I can explain to him the linear nature of time itself, there is a fine line between mythology/legends, history; Il en est des arts et des techniques, comme des lieux, des légendes, des contes et des fables, different strokes for different folks, and the fact certain things happened at different times, some overlap, and some repeat, and some scholars even wonder if time exists at all, or if the entirety of existence is not happening simultaneously as in NOW.

I love writing this blog, I have tried to transcribe, facetious, uproarious, and perplexing stories out of the everyday things that I have experienced, and witnessed in Afrika, my life is about the ultimate raillery, and the lampoonery about me or others (may God forgive me). I thought that if I wrote them down, then maybe, other people would find them risible, and anomalous. I imagined that within a couple of months, I would have thousand of readers, and million of dollars $$ (dola) deposited in my Standard Chartered Bank International Account.

It is unequivocal that I may have been a bit exalted, and have even hyperbolised, about my talent as a litterateur, and a wordsmith, just another money scheme/scam falling short to my intended target, story of my life Always a second late or a penny short. I have said before that I just want to practice, and improve my writing in the hope of one day turning it into a career, and this is still the case. In fact, "IT" now really is the only reason I keep doing "IT", I do love writing, and really do want to get better at "IT". Meanwhile the Ayitian side in MOI, would quite like to make some money at "IT" too, hence, starting today (jodi a), I am re-designing things up in here, and adding advertising (except for porno sites), do not be upset as it is nothing terrible, like a good ole Ayitian politician, I have simply sold out to the highest bidder, that is all, I am hardly Donald Trump, or George Soros, I am not even Titid (JBA), let us keep things in perspective here. On the whole though, I figure I might as well give it a try, and so any one who is reading this please forgive me, but in the meantime, do let me know if the writing, and the babbling (radòt) is improving, I have not posted anything for months, and it does feel like ages.

JBA: Jean-Bertrand Aristide: Presidente de la Republica de Haiti (1990-1991), (1994-1996), and (2001- 2004).

Debunking the Mayan calendar, and Michel de Nostradame, or Jehan de Notre Dame aka Nostradamus.-

De prime abord, let me echo, that I have never claimed to be anything, but an ignoramus, therefore all my life, I have remained baffled about certain hypotheses and theories; in my dunce, and rather brutish brain: 1 plus 1 equal 2, (1+1= 2) epi dat 7, (Note), and over the years, I have often dared, and challenged my scientist mystic buddies, to ascertain, and corroborate any mythical, mystical (?), fables or legends.

Note: Epi dat 7: Krenglish (Kreyòl-English phonetics), and that's it ; Number 7, (# 7) pronounced: Sept in French & Set in Kreyòl sounds like: IT (English)

Here is my dictum of why the Mayan calendar ends on 21 December, 2012, and my astute observation of Jehan de Notre Dame's (Nostradamus') quatrains, and all of the end of the world, pre-suppositions, and inclinations:

Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could, and nothing ever had, there is always SOMETHING.

Explicandum of the Mayan calendar.-

Something happened to, or with the guy who was drawing/drafting the calendar. Who is to say he did not go home that night, and have a heart attack in his sleep, or stumbled, and broke both hands, or slipped, and hit his head on a stone, and suffered a lifetime concussion, or he caught his wife, performing a mezzo soprano of râles et gémissements, à même le sol with a life time lover? to quote Fat Joe (the rapper): We're from the Bronx, New-York, and shit happens, who knows? but my favourite possible explanation, and the one I feel most likely to be true, is that Mr. Mayan calendar drawer did not get paid. That is right, I would bet the Mayan civilization went bankrupt trying to bring about Universal Shaman-Care (Health Care) for all its citizens, and Mr. calendar drawer, stopped working on it because he was not going to take anymore I.O.U's from the Shaman Social Security/Pension Trust Fund.

I would also like to point out that numbers (#'s) were invented by the Egyptians, Made in Egypt, I would be a numerologist, a believer, if numbers were originally Made in China; moreover, I have always been dubious to whatever human beings crop up, or buoy up. Numbers (#'s), days, months, years, lotto, "bòlèt", horoscopes, tarot card readings, only mean whatever we want them to mean, in other words, they do not mean JACK ! Why do you think people read their horoscopes daily? We do not have a clue, but we like the idea that we do, some concubines, lovers, exchange horoscopes routinely, believe me, they do not believe a word, but between life-time Facebook, AOL, Skype, Netlog, Yahoo Messenger eternal flames, doux baisers, and all, it is whatever rock their boats, one or the other will claim to be ahead of the Astrologists, in their eyes this is "sexual healing", and to quote a particular International playa: It's gonna be quite a show, ma grande, who am I to say otherwise?

Explanandum of Jehan de Notre Dame.- (Nostradamus)

Nostradamus was incognizant, perturbed if not qualmy, the man was French after all, he was just writing down what a few bottles of home made wine were whispering to him in his sleep, his quatrains are oblique, and elliptical to YOU and MOI, stop pretending that you have deciphered one (1) word from Jehan's quatrains, the same goes for the book of Revelation, it was one person's vision of the future, just like the Mayan's calendar, and trust me: We are NOT worthy, galactic alignment, and massive solar radiation are way beyond our comprehension.

That is my random thought for April 2011. I hope to have them for many more years, but if you believe the Mayans, the countdown to the great 13th Bak'tun, is about one (1) year, and a half 'till doomsday, (21 December, 2012), you do not have much time, so go out there, and have a blast, who wants to sit around and self-obsess about the end of the world, when you can self-medicate with a frosty cerveza (beer) under the sun somewhere in Bali, Dubai or the Caribbean.

A "civilogue" about Ayiti's election.-

Ever since Genesis, or depuis the issuance, and public reading of Magna Carta (1297) democracy, and/or civil rights, no matter your race, colour, origin, gender, creed, and religion, come from, and belong to all people simply because they are HUMAN BEINGS. Said RIGHTS are inalienable, God given, and never have been GIFT of the elites to dispense or withhold; they are are not inherited, or conferred, and cannot be withdrawn on a whim; they are not bestowed by virtue of birthright, patrimony, and inheritance, if they were, they would not be UNIVERSAL RIGHTS.

Hence: the first Jewish revolt against the Roman Empire (The Great Revolt 66-73 CE); the Ayitian slaves rebellion (1791-1803); the US Women's suffrage movement of the 1920's; the decolonisation of the Afrikan continent in the 50's & 60's; the US civil rights movement of the 60's; the failure of Communism in the Soviet Union (1991); the demise of Apartheid in South Afrika (1994?); and Le printemps Arabe (Arab Spring 2011). Generations later, it is those paramount, and sine quibus non human rights, that our politicians have repudiated.

Eux par Moi, Moi par Eux.- Men m nou men m lan.- Statu quo ante.-

La vague rose (pink wave), that swept through the Ayitian's political scene last week, was a tsunami, everything indicated that it was time for a fresh start. Between people’s desiderata for our country’s future, and the trajectory we are on, if we continue to think, and behave as we do, I have often inelegantly heralded that, the meltdown, and annihilation of Ayitian civilisation, is only a matter of time, and have more than often, asserted that, to survive, and prosper, our country need future leaders, and citizens, in aggregate, to be more au courant of the political process, not just voting, but understanding that difficult, and gut-wrenching decisions need to be made for the long term benefit of Ayiti, I have silently yearned, and supplicated for scrupulous, veracious, pro-social, bona fide political leaders, which mournfully brings me to the 2010/2011 Ayiti's election.

What I ultimately take from this election is that, I have not seen an enormous amount of actual change, quite the contrary in fact, and certainly no new politics. It would have been risible, if the lives of million of people were not at stake, but it was still fascinating, and farcical, to overhear the flavour of la perdante bitterness, she did not waste anytime forecasting Armageddon, immediate doom, and gloom for the country, Madame, just could not resist taking the opportunity to contravene age old tradition, by throwing a few jabs, followed by a dozen or so uppercuts; speaking condescendingly about le vainqueur (the winner), she casted herself as morally superior, and intellectually above le commun des mortels, (average Joe) what especially struck a chord, was the trivialising, and belittling of her opponent's raz de marée victory.

L'ascension implacable de "Tèt Kale".- The ultimate rise of "Tèt Kale".-

Conversely, Monsieur, le gagnant, a depraved buffoon, and baffoon in the eyes of the Ayitian intelligentsia, the solfège challenged, self-proclaimed Konpa Prezidan, in a bizarre twist, morphed into a political animal, by running a modern, and technology savvy campaign, showing shrewdness, and acumen, the dapper future Prezidan, voix posée, costume bien coupé, and tèt kale, handled his first Q & A press conference with the dexterity, and the savoir faire of a seasoned politician. Not à mon goût were the memorable surnames, and recognizable visages on the dais, the faces flashing on our television screens were telling, and habitual, un portrait sans retouche, guess they have never heard of Adobe Photoshop.

Post scriptum.- Tèt Kale (Kreyòl expression): Martelly's campaign slogan; bald head (English), or all the way, also has a sexual interpretation in Kreyòl.

Running a great campaign, and winning a presidential election, ain't no guarantee of a successful presidency, hastily, the victorious party will no longer see la vie en rose, and confront the sinister reality of Ayitian politics. The International Press is already waxing, having a field day, about shades of Papa's & Baby Doc's reign; the crisis at hand is profound, and urgent, and the worst may still be to come. The task ahead seems almost insurmountable, and a few questions need to be addressed:how could the future government, and the people have a deeper, and more honest conversation about the choices facing a country which was a catastrophe even Pre-J 12? how could Ayiti develop a new, and stronger civil society to fill the gaps between the haves, and haves-not?. The conqueror will need to step up his strategy, and not waste precious time, playing tit for tat, but to remain focus, and turn this quagmire into a national conversation about new inspiring, and concrete ideas.

When asked last year, whether a man who made a name dancing, and singing had the mettle for his nation's top job, the former musician sarcastically smiled, and sniggered: Well, look at what the politicians have done so far. In capsule, at the end, nothing is ever so lugubre, because God is utterly GOOD!

All times when good, are old...

A season of warmth and togetherness.-

I have been away from this here blog for a few weeks, more like 2 (two) months or so, due to holiday cheers, and all that stuff. Those of you who know me, know that, the holiday epoch to MOI, is synonymous to le bien manger, le bien boire, et le bon sexe (good food, good wine & good sex), and December 2010, was pure debauchery, the bacchanalia kicked into high gear, with a 75th birthday bash in my honour (13 December), everything did go as planned, better yet, everything went just like wifey, and the kids planned, because Ole G did not have a clue, of course, I did notice the comings, and goings, but I figured, that it was "holiday season traffic". I was genuinely surprised, thank God, no one jumped out from behind a door, or a sofa, and yelled: SURPRISE, at my advanced age, the old ticker, (my old heart), cannot handle any sudden movement or loud, screeching noises. During this festive interval, I have also discerned that good wine, give us courage, and make us more apt to passion.

Wine, and champagne are bottled poetry.-

13 December, 2010, was a mirthful day, full of laughter, hugs, and kisses, no last minute disasters, chaotic moments, food fights, (tho I tried to start one), squabbling, and then it was over, just like a raindrop's brief journey from the skies above. All that planning, a big splash, and then nothing left, but dirty wine & champagne glasses, I do not recall much, if anything about the party, but according to the attendees and the bartenders, I lived up to my reputation of being a charming host, and a carouser. In Afrika, I am so happy, that I have met people with whom I just instantly relax. It is rare to find, and I appreciate it to the fullest, and truly.

For the New Year's Eve celebration, an unplanned four (4) days trip to a safari at Ngorongoro Crater/Lake Manyara (TZ), popped up, to restore my sanity, and my faith on pushing through, on getting old. Whilst in the forest, I meditated about old age, and realise that I have been lucky, and blessed (so far), there are only two (2) options in life, one either gets old, or one croaks, I will settle for option # 1, any day, or time of the week.

Le repos du guerrier.- The warrior's rest.-

I have been pondering about my next post, sometimes it can be difficult to come up with something, apparently, I have settled quite comfortably into old age with style, the joys of growing old disgracefully, I have faced with the prospect of life, simply not turning out quite how I imagined, no longer a jamais dodo (nite rider), by 9:00 pm, I am half-asleep on the family room sofa, while trying vainly to watch a La Liga football game, preferably Barcelona (Barça), by half-time I am comatose on the chaise longue, Yes, I do feel older, I do have more wrinkles around my eyes, my bones do crack in the morning, my few remaining teeth (6 out of 32) are rattling more than ever, my back aches when I travel, sit, or drive for more than twenty (20) minutes, and contrarily to the myth, the eyesight, and the memory, are NOT the first things to go (wink wink), but there are also so many great things about getting older: I have family & friends in many places of the world that still fill my life with joy; one particular vivacious, and bubbly young lady, a future Forbes magazine, business woman of the Year, brought me a certain felicity, when she scribed down the undermentioned words: Ole G, you're old & ugly, but you're kool, and she further added: Don't be so humble, you are not that great, I am telling you, with friends like these, who needs enemies?. I have followed my heart, and it has brought me to many different places, and I have met a colorful, and amazing bunch of people. For now, there is no gate, and no wall in my way at all, I have chosen, to enjoy all the fun, crazy, scary, wonderful, weird, overwhelming, and very, very different impressions, that life has brought me in Afrika, Mungu ibariki Afrika (God bless Afrika).

Notate bene.- Do not stop reading, It cannot get any worse than the diatribe above.

Annus Horribilis, 2010.-

2011 will be better, I just know it, too confident? more of just being positive. You cannot go through a year without the downs, but I know, that they will help in pulling you up for further ups. I believe that everything is a blessing, as long as we have the patience to see the good things that all events bring, especially those which we consider "negative". A certain event may be negative now, but after some time, something better comes which would have never happened if it wasn't for "the bad" past.

So basically, I just know that 2011 will be annus mirabilis, no matter what happens because good things will always happen, and better things always come after not-so-good events as a result of new learning,  and proper timing.

Annus horribilis:(Latin) Year of horrors, horrible year.

Annus mirabilis:(Latin) Year of miracle, year of wonders.

Demo-crazy in Ayiti.-

We all know that sometimes, election results are whack. Maybe, in the past, you have lost faith in the whole processus, because the gentleman or lady, and the political party, that you voted for, did not "get in"; probably, the predicted results, from pundits or pollsters, were way off; or may be a member of your family, running for the senate, or the presidency, only received a grand total of twenty-three (23) votes, cast between wives, husbands, concubines, old time not so-secret lovers, zonzons, and numerous manman, papa pitit, and fanm deyò, but what is going on, in Ayiti these days, is the weirdest, wrongest, and stupidest election results in history. It seems like everyone, is whoring for the Ayitian presidency. It used to be that politicians, were not just interested in fame, just for fame’s sake, but were concerned about how they would be remembered by historians, (you know, the whole “legacy” thing, pour l'histoire). These days, they seem to just want to be remembered or better yet, never be forgotten. What other culture could have produced specimen like: Jean-Claude Duvalier, Jean-Bertrand Aristide, René Préval, and Jude Célestin, and NOT get the joke nor the irony, and the buffoonery.

Addendum.- Is it grammatically correct to say/write: "wrongest"?.

It has gotten so bad, that presidency-whores, who would not otherwise be interested in public service are slithering into politics to get their fifteen (15) minutes of fame, some aspire to more fame, and glory (Michel Martelly & Wyclef Jean); some start out as political activists; others are/were past gwo zotobre (big shots) in past dictatorial governments; some are the so-called black intelligentsia; a couple of mulatto businessmen have joined, and jumped into the frey; and then some are..., well, some just are...one thing for certain, most, if not all, of Ayitian politicians, just refuse to get off the soap box, and one has to wonder why?. In our history, we have lynched, assassinated 2 (two) presidents: Jean-Jacques Dessalines & Vilbrun Guillaume Sam; 1 (one) committed suicide: Henry Christophe; more than 2 dozens were hounded, violently deposed, and exiled: Elie Lescot, Dumarsais Estimé, Paul E. Magloire, Daniel Fignolé, Jean-Claude Duvalier, Jean-Bertrand Aristide to name just a few; and when all else fails, we hold costly, flawed, deadly, and ersatz elections. With a quizzically raised left eyebrow, I have often asked: why does anyone in his/her right state of mind, would want to be the President of Ayiti? one cherished childhood friend, a true giant of a man, answered my dimwitted, and ludicrous question by advising me to:Just follow the Benjamins, and C-notes. (Ref:2 & Ref:3)

Ref 1.- The acronyms: In the Ayitian psyche, all the country ills are caused & therefore must/should be blamed on the: US, IMF, UN, CIA, OAS, INTERPOL, CARICOM, NGOs ect...

Ref 2.- The Benjamins: Benjamin Franklin: US diplomat, and inventor, featured on the $100 USD (one hundred-dollar bill).

Ref 3.- C notes: From Roman numerals; C = 100 (one hundred).

No one is FREE, even the birds are chained to the sky.-

It is candid, and equitable to say, that René Préval, is/was NOT a popular President. Future scholars, will marvel at the fact, that the only words officially recorded from Mr. Préval, in the past five (5) years, were uttered in the town of Leyogàn (Léogâne), acclaimed for its distilleries; Internationally mocked for his drunkenness, Mr. Préval, also has the singular honour of serving two (2) full terms, as the democratically elected president of Ayiti, (sans coup d'état), with all this going for him, or against him, he has somehow managed to turn, the 2010/2011 election into a kanaval, a circus, there are reports, that Ti René, is usually so drunk, that he was often spotted, at official state dinners, trying to butter a watermelon. Consequently, the latest elections organised by P-2, were viewed, by many with distrust, due to years of inebriety, insobriety, crapulence, and arrogance, after all this is a government that has failed to recognise the needs of its people, even post J-12.

P-2: Pertains to René Préval's, second term as President of Ayiti (2006-2011).

J-12: 12 January, 2010, the day of a catastrophic earthquake (7.0 magnitude Mw) in Ayiti, an estimated 300 000 kretyen vivan (human beings) perished & over half a million (500 000) were injured.

In a country, where the official political status has been for centuries: Koupe tèt, boule kay, coup d'etats, anarchy, fallacious elections, dechoukaj, etcetera, any election result is virtually meaningless. Since 1986, the country has been in a state of constant upheaval; with a multitude of political parties, all uselessly running on the vague platform of: We are just going to kill, torture, or exile, the other guys/gals, from the other political parties, to be honest, we had not really thought much past that, and the next time a nincompoop like MOI, tell you all that primary school Instruction morale et civique crapology, about voting in any Ayitian elections, do keep in mind, that Adolf Hitler was elected in a full, free democratic election.

Et j'en ai ras-le-bol, le revenant.- The ghost.-

So much has been written about le revenant (JCD), that it would be awkward, and arduous to add anything new to the dialogue, but if the fact, and occurrence, that Jean-Claude Duvalier's return to Ayiti, seems remotely normal to you, or sounds like a sensible move, I feel obliged to opine, that you have gargled, swallowed, or digested some petrol (ou bwè gaz), or somebody must have hit you over the head with a jackhammer, and if none of the aforesaid have occurred, you are in great need of a few refreshing Ayitian history classes; AH 101: Ayitian History 101.

Note.- JCD: Jean-Claude Duvalier

Albert Einstein, you know the theory of relativity guy, (E = mc2), mass & energy, time dilation formulae, and all that konpa, once said: Only 2 things are infinite: The universe, and human stupidity.

Bombastic babble

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.

Legacy of a simpleton

The luxury of time.- Kalewès.-

"Time is an equal opportunity employer. Each human being has exactly the same number of hours, and minutes every day. The rich can’t buy more hours. Scientists cannot invent new minutes. And you can not save time to spend it on another day. Even so, time is amazingly fair, and forgiving. No matter how much time you have wasted in the past, you still have an entire tomorrow." ~Denis Waitely (British novelist).

L'espace d'un cillement.- In the flicker of an eyelid.-

When one reaches un certain âge (a certain age), one starts reflecting on what kind of legacy, one will leave behind. Every aspect of living (and dying for that matter) involves the process of time. Yes, time is precious, we never know for sure how much of it we are allotted. How do we know whether or not we are spending it responsibly? better yet, is it necessary to spend it responsibly? Shouldn’t we just experience the condition of being alive? lifting our spirits? praying, and playing? humming, and humping? Who is accountable for "time" anyway? Christians believe in God, Buddhists in Buddha, Muslims in Allah, and of course, we (Ayitians) believe in the lwas (deities of Ayitian vodou religion). I have somehow inferred, that it is "time" for me to "chillax". My friends, and loved ones agree that my sensitivity, and honesty, have always been my life's biggest hurdle, some say it is/has been my "malheur" (the bane of my life), just because, I have felt every single of my life experiences to the core of my being (nan nannan m), happiness is retrospective, that is why lifetime not-so-secret/down low lovers, and concubines, often reminisce, and wax about le bon vieux temps (the good ole days), childhood friends hark back to bygones era, and why, pleasant scenes keep revolving in our minds. A la recherche du temps perdu, (Remembrance of things past).

Note: Vodou: Afro-Caribbean religion, sometimes spelled Vodu or Vudu in Benin; in Togo: also Vodon, Vodoun, Voudou, or other phonetically equivalent spellings. In Ayiti: Vudu, Vaudou, Vodu, Vodoo.

And for my crimes, this is my time.- Sa m fè, ma p peye.-

In this atypical life of mine, I have been humiliated, mystified, fooled, lied to, coaxed, bullied, physically abused, vilified, blemished, cajoled, loved, adored, despised, tolerated, spoiled, caressed, and I have been the anathema to many, but I still advocate to the theory, that Good will always triumph over Evil, I am without regrets, and I pray the Lord daily, to keep acrimony out of my heart, (it may be too late for the latter), then again, I see my kids' face, laughing, smiling, developing, and reaching maturity, learning, discovering, questioning, ♫ and I say to myself What a wonderful world ♪.

This is what life is all about: the pains, les petites joies, the love, hugs and chocolate kisses, the smiles, the laughters, the ironies, the tears, the treacheries, the betrayals, the dreams, the achievements, the fiascos, the catastrophes, the failures, la douceur du pardon, the sweetness of forgiveness, the unexpected, the sorrows, the fears, the dramas, the disillusions, the chicaneries ect...My legacy (if any), will reside in the many warm embraces that I have exchanged, or in the 2 cents worth of advice I have given, the unconditional, scrupulous, and candid love that I have shared. My wishes are simple: I would like to be thought of, as the person who offered a shoulder to cry on to others, the one who mourned with those who mourned, and helped them find the courage within themselves to get back up, I pray daily, that "in memoriam" of MOI, my two (2) children will remember me, as the person who laughed, joked, and endlessly lectured them to find the courage within themselves to be unique, to stand for what is right, ethical, to always (no matter the price) have a "moral certainty", I hope, they don't let evil overcome them, au contraire, they should overcome evil by doing good, and to always be les avocats des causes perdues (the devil's advocates). This life of mine, would not be in vain after all, if three (3) scores from now, my children recollect how they felt when they were in my company, it would not be futile, if they remember that TRUTH, and confidence are the roots of happiness, it would not be hollow, if they actualise that other people's opinions of them, do not have to become their realities, and most significantly, It is not WHO is right, but WHAT is right, that is important...Wait, be still, and patient, keep God † first, and everything else will follow...Continuance in kind.

A certain éclat.- It ain't EZ.-

Things could have been worse, much worse, and I am content they are not. I am tired, but I am felicitous, elated, and blessed because I am living, breathing, exultant for my family, happy for blue skies, sunsets, jubilant to be here, to have hope, to know that things will be better, and eventually, I will be vindicated.
"Truth is generally the best vindication against slander" (Abraham Lincoln)

He/she conquers who endures.-.


If you are happy with who you are, then victory is at your door step, no one can take it away from you, and at least in those little tiny moments when you are nice to yourself, failure can not get to you. We can never determine the outcome of anything. We can only be prepared, and try our very best. But, if life has brought you down to your knees, things should crumble, and the following advices: just work harder or put things in perspective, and it’s destiny just isn’t cutting it for you, or when even spirituality may not be enough, if you have turned into anybody without dreams, if nothing is like it was, if all is lost forever, if you are shattered, or even have cracked in the face of adversity, I beseech you to remember that you still have one powerful weapon left at your disposal: You can still decide how you will treat yourself in the process. So, I supplicate you to choose to treat yourself with love, patience, understanding, and caring.

Evil is always possible, Goodness is a difficulty.-

I am cognizant, that it takes time, and effort to stop rolling in the mud, it may require a colossal effort not to fall into the crevasse (abyss) of human illusion, it is hard to follow a righteous path in a labyrinth without walls, but I know it is possible. I know that I can lean back, and gotta get, THAT, dirt off my shoulder (Jay-Z, Ref:1), in the interim, allow me to sing David Phelps' lyrics (Ref:2) ♪♫ As I look in the eyes of my daughter, and my son, I hope, ♫♪ I've stood for something that they'll want to carry on, ♫ 'cause life is far too short not to finally realise that it's long enough to make a difference in someone's life ♫♪ So I'm gonna love my neighbor, ♪♪ and I'm gonna love my wife, wrap my arms around my children, and pray with them each night ♪♫ Thank God for all the good things cause the good things are enough, the ties that bind, and leave behind a legacy of LOVE...♫♪

As an aside: Isn't it a bit unnerving that doctors, call what they do PRACTICE?

Ref:1-: Jay-Z: Arguably the greatest American born rapper to ever live.

Ref:2-: David Phelps: Christian vocalist, and lyricist.

The "weirdacity" of Ole G

Joy to the world, my mind is gone.-

I have been tired lately, I have not been feeling so great, even been fatigued and/or maybe, I have got a trace of the infamous old age syndrome. Things are OK really, I have a great family, great circle of friends, and I finally understand that friends come, and go, but I have learned to hold on to a precious few, because the older you get, the more you need people who can listen to you babble, and not groan. This year has been difficult, hasn’t it? nearly every person I know, has had a tale of sorrow, losses of loved ones to tell. These are the days, if not the epoch, of thankfulness, and gratitude, neither of which requires anything from us, but a merry, sincere heart, and the acknowledgement that we all so richly deserve.

In this crass, adulterous, violent, crime ridden, and vulgar world, where honesty is in short supply, and too many different personalities conflict with what is right and wrong, it is not easy to be the master of your own feelings, and thoughts. I have been procrastinating, kept putting off updating the blog, it's just that horrid phrase kept chiming in my tèt kokolo (bald head): You will have time to do it later.

A particularly divine, quick-witted, and sagacious grande dame (take a bow, my dear), whom I have not seen (face á face/ face to face) in twenty eight (28 ) plus years, but thank God for Facebook, brought me a certain gaiety with these discerning words: There is no such thing as sane people, we are living in an insane world, abnormality is a figment of our imagination, or what so-called sane minds came up with. I sometimes cannot find the right words to write on this here blog, my followers expect so much, yet, I have delivered so little, this blog does not reward me with $$$, or any notoriety, but this is the space where I vent, and mostly babble, about the inane nonsense on my mind, and who knows? may be one day, I will muster enough gusto to write something to make you laugh, smile, and God forbid THINK.

And there goes ME thinking.-

Several things that I would like to talk about, but knowing me, however, I will briefly mention them, and then move on to some radòt (ramblings). I often write about crazy things that annoy me, and/or annoying things that make me crazy! Was it Douglas Adams who said: In the beginning, the universe was created, this has made a lot of people very angry, and has been widely regarded as a bad move. Then again, I have always thought that any day above ground is a great day. Anyways, it all does not matter now, because my eyes have seen the glory of the coming of Lebron James to the Miami Heat (NBA), and losing in the first round of the NBA playoffs. Welcome to my abnormal world, so glad you stopped by, and happy reading...Jesus, what was that diatribe all about?

Note:  Douglas Adams: British author, satirist, and dramatist.

One last time, let's hear it: Waka Waka, it's time for Afrika.-

Afrika Suni was colourful, noisy, and a vibrant celebration of international football, but it was the World Cup the Samba spirit died, some say it was the World Cup when/where Pele's eternal magnificence, Leonidas' splendid kicks (inventor of the bicycle kick), and Ronaldinho's aesthetic game, were forever darkened, if not buried, by a type of soccer at odds with the glorious Brasilian brand that has been maintained for generations. For once, the Brasilians looked perplexed, seething, and bickering with referees, and opponents...RIP Jogo Bonito (rest in peace, beautiful game).

p.s.- Waka Waka: Fang language from Cameroon; English: Do it; get the job done; get the task done.

The biggest names in football simply did not turn up at this tournament: England's Wayne Rooney, somehow forgot how to run, and pass, Argentina's Messi, could not find the net from two (2) feet away, and Portugal's Christiano Ronaldo, could only score one (1) rather comical goal against North Korea. The brightest star of the tournament was Uruguay's talented forward *Diego Forlan*, and the most hated man in Afrika is Uruguay's Luis Suarez, but forget about Brasil, Forlan, and Suarez, perhaps the biggest achievement, was the reduction of crime in Afrika Suni to almost negligible levels, by the mobilization of a well-organized, and equipped force of more than 40 thousand (40 000) police/security officers deployed at: (Stadia, FIFA headquarters, hotels/motels, whorehouses, public parks, restos, tourists venues ect...), this all creates an interesting issue, the Afrika Suni government is going to face some difficult questions. If it could build so many wonderful stadi, and reduced crimes in the country to almost negligible levels, why can’t it provide enough new housing for shanty dwellers, or hospitals and schools?

Note: World Cup 2014, will be in Brasil, world capital of: soccer, tangas, gwo dada (big butt), and kanaval...Qui dit mieux? (who can possibly claim better?).

L'union fait "la farce".- Idiocracy and Democracy.-

Like most abnormal people, I enjoy a good laugh, especially at the expense of others, and as luck would have it, I had an exceptionally good one today. Sweet Micky (MM), and Wyclef Jean, along with thirty plus (30+) other individuals, officially entered Ayiti's presidential race, some have wondered out loud, what Black Alex (James Pierre Alexis) is up to these days . Now, let us try to see things without the tainted prism of bias, prejudice, and cynicism. As far back as I can remember, I have been a political junkie, and have loved nothing more than to discuss, debate, and frustrate, those who hold diametrically opposite views to my own.

Note 1.- "MM": Michel Martelly aka Sweet Micky/ El Miko.

I do take umbrage to the trenchant verbal assaults aim at Wyclef Jean, improper arguments, like referring to his pedigree, and his poor command of the English language, may warm the hearts of so many (in the "red meat" sense), but they also discredit those who make them in the eyes of equitable observers. One of the reasons why I abhor the politiks of the so-called Ayitian middle class, and those who still have the preponderant control of the country, is that they have getting away with this sort of behaviour for decades, and of course, we have allowed them to even make careers out of such comportement, but this time (for once), the arrant fools do not realise that their antipathies, will only unmask, and undermine their own credibility, and publicly promulgate their personal failures.

Note: Politik: Politicians/ Political Affairs; Politiques/ Affaires Politiques (French).

I do have reasons, plenty of reasons, to again, take umbrage about most diasporas' assertion that: the sky will fall, if 'Clef ascends to the presidency, there is no magic left in this line of argument. As a humanist, I would like Wyclef's effort, dedication, and philanthropy to various Ayitian causes, - TO MATTER - by bringing us closer to some national goal.

One cannot possibly doubt the selflessness, and the devotedness of Wyclef Jean to his country, after all, for the past decade or so, he has "represented" the Ayitian diaspora magnificently on the international scene, and the narrative that he is offering is irresistible, le retour de l'enfant prodigue, the prodigal son, returning to rescue his native land.

Umbrage, encore et toujours (once again), at the idea, that he will be a bad Prezidan (President) because he does not speak Kreyòl, nor French, or he will be a horrible, just because he does not speak "Proper English", this is not the time for quackery logic.

Sweet Micky (MM) has his personal demons, video tapes cannot be refuted, and a few tapes, of our potentially future Prezidan (president), parading on stage wearing a jip (skirt), and/or a bikini tanga, have surfaced on the Internet social networks, It should be duly noted that his 100% KK cd (100% shit/excrement) was/is still a best seller, but when it comes to Micky, one discerns a certain laissez rouler les bons temps, after all Micky is notre matamore préféré, notre Hidalgo chéri, notre Don Quichotte à nous, all is forgiven, just a self-aggrandising braggart having a few laughs, meanwhile, 'Clef is already a polarising figure, loathed by the Ayitian middle class, and bourgeoisie, but adored by the young, the disenfranchised, and the downtrodden (the majority).

• Matamore: braggart (English); vantard (French); dyòlè: (Kreyòl).
• Hidalgo: Title of individuals of the Spanish nobility.
• Don Quichotte: Main character of Miguel de Cervantes' classic novel El ingenioso Hidalgo Don Quijote de la Mancha  (Spain, circa 1600).

But there is a wider issue up in here, the future president of Ayiti, must overcome the challenges of bringing things like potable water, housings, decentralization, electricity, roads, health care, education, and jobs to Ayitians. Good Governance, if there is such a thing, or such a word, is not black, and white – there are many shades of gray. I am not willing in anyway whatsoever to condone the detractors of Wyclef Jean, but I have come to the conclusion, tho QUALIFIED, however he is, INELIGIBLE to run for office in the 2010 election, simply because, Ayiti's Constitution (1987), Article 135, clearly stipulates: Candidates must have had five (5) consecutive years of residency in Ayiti prior the election. Mr Wyclef Jean has never/ever resided in Ayiti for five (5) consecutive years: Causa finita; end of argument; Sispan n pale anpil.

Personal message to Mr Wyclef Jean.- (Doomed, but gallant solution.-)

Some battles are not worth fighting, some prizes, some trophies, some awards, are just not worth the blood, sweat, and the tears expended in acquiring them. They hold you back, traumatise, deflate, break you, ou gen pou di, se djab baka ka p manje w, they may make you lose faith in the brotherhood of man, take a pass on this particular battle. As the wise man once said, it really does not matter if you jumped in, or were pushed in, just keep treading water like hell, and GET OUT AS FAST AS YOU CAN, I would add, that you should not only try to keep afloat, you should be also heading back to shore (Yele Haiti). Once there, start off from where you left off, and sail on, my brother.

Let it never be said, that I am an alarmist; apoplectic: maybe; deranged: definitely. Bad choices, superstars choices, ex prime ministers choices, yo' mama choices, impossible choices; this election campaign seems the first in memory, where all thirty four (34) candidates are equally unimpressive. Elections serve a purpose, but are often flawed, complicated, costly, so what marker should we use? The classic, choose the lesser of two (2) evils? Close your eyes, and see what the almighty pen chooses? sadly, this whole charade certainly is not about who is more deserving, I think that in our preferential, emotional, Ayitians have it like dat , voting system, it seems like abstaining from voting, or maybe just writing WHO CARES on the ballot box will be the easiest way to ensure that neither of the thirty plus (30+) candidates get our votes. And perhaps, that is the best choice we can make at the moment.

In an unrelated story, Kool-Aid, will be available in several delicious new flavours.

Long live folly.- Vive la bagatelle

Ole G goes to school.- 

The old man went back to school, and it ain't kool, the first one to laugh, or even smirk at the idea of Ole G trying to learn a new language and/or sitting, sur les bancs de l'école ( sitting on school benches) will have to pay une amende (a fee). Yes, I have been attending Kiswahili classes daily,  since I have always felt that language is an artifact of culture. My classmates are all recent law school graduates, needless to say, that they are all young (20 something), sharp, smart, and they have somehow confused the classroom with the courtroom. It all sounds like fun, since I have always enjoyed to partake in a few verbal jousts, now other than for mere entertainment value, I share the following anecdote with you, because I believe that I have been bamboozled. Sorry, this is not for the memory books, or the diaries. Hominis est errare (It belongs to man, to err/ especially Ole G).

Buffy Mc Kean.-

• Day 1.- The very first day, for some Lord only knows why reason, I grabbed a seat next to Buffy Mac Kean, 41 seconds later, I learned that barrister-at-Law Mac Kean is a natural Californian Buddhist, Confucian scholar, and a vegetarian, who likes yoga & meditation, did I mention that the Buffer talks about herself in the third (3rd) person, and giggles endlessly? I do NOT like Miss Mac Kean, she has somehow triggered my annoyance button, but God has an adroit sense of humour: Buffy adores Ole G.

• Day 2.- The great escape, four (4) rows to the right, of course Miss cheerleader, thought I was tweaking with the assigned seats rule, I calmly explained to the giggler, that we are no longer in  third (3rd) grade, and this is a spacious room over thirty (30) seats for fourteen (14) individuals, the Yogi did not register my comment, she moved  four (4) rows down to the right, next to Ole G; who cares what I had to say, the scholar was too busy showing me her baby pictures, while informing me that she only listens to Han music (traditional Chinese folk song), I also was educated about the qin, the most important instrument in a Chinese orchestra. Silently, I addressed a prayer to my Lord, my saviour: Lord, strike me now!

• Day 3.- I evaded the veggie, awaited for the rapscallion, to take a seat, faked to the middle, moved three (3) rows, and six (6) desks from her assigned seat, lounged in the middle chair, between two (2) gents, a brilliant maneuver to say the least, the pixie calmly turned around, flashed her Colgate smile, slowly picked her notebooks, books, pens, liquid ink highlighters, erasers, glue sticks, Crayola pencils, Blackberry, handbag, backpack, tablet, and laptop, calmly walked toward me, and simply asked one of the gent to move one (1) seat to the right because she always sits next to her new BFF. I hesitantly asked what does BFF stand for? the malefactor stared me down, and chimed, that it stands for: "Best Friend Forever".

• Day 4.- Fwa sa se pou tout bon, (this is it), when everything else fails, good ole Ayitian becharm, and sophistry will always save the day: I painstakingly informed Her Tackiness, that I am under the weather: the cold if not the flu, it would not be safe or wise to sit next to me, as her BFF, I would not want her to catch a virus or 2, who knows, my cold...Buffy smiled, flipped her hair, arched her highbrows, giggled, and informed me that, she has been inoculated thirty seven (37) shots, henceforth, immune from all kind of swine flu, bird flu, avian flu, influenza type A, and B, dengue fever, yellow fever, malaria, cholera, varicella, typhoid, rabies, polio ect...and every bit of the caricature that she is, she inquired if I knew what scale Han music is based on?

• Day 5.- Buffy brought me a one (1) litre water bottle, and some ibuprofens for my pains, and aches,  while catching her breath, she revealed that her nickname is Buff-Buff,  I subtlety uttered that with a name like Buffy, one truly does not need a nickname, Buff-Buff giggled, and assigned me a nickname: Baba... Baba had to apologise five (5) times to Buff-Buff for his effrontery.

• Day 6.- As I walked through the classroom door, knowing perfectly well, that even if I continue to pray, I am toast, I found myself singing the Ole Negro spiritual hymn:

♪ ♫ Ride in, kind Saviour ♫ No man, nor woman especially Buffy can hinder me.♪ O, Jesus is a mighty man ♫♪ No man, & company ♫ I am marching through Buffy fields ♪♪ ♪ Protect me, kind Lord ♫♫ O, Satan is a busy man...♪

Day 7.- Rien ne va plus (the die is cast), broken, hoodwinked, crushed, weakened, disheveled, submissive, subservient, zombified, and resigned to a torturous life, I voluntarily grabbed the seat next to Esquire Buffy Mac Kean. Causa finita (the cause is ended)

Monsieur, le professeur.-

The Kiswahili teacher is a portly forty (40) something Tanzanian natif natal, who insisted on the very first day to be referred to as "Mister Professor", apparently two (2) scores ago, the grand-stander attended a three (3) weeks Certificate Programme at Harvard University (Cambridge, MA), and to prove his perfect attendance at the venerable Ivy League Institution, every ten (10) minutes or so, he pulls out a picture of himself, stylin' in the middle of  Harvard Square. In spite of his great pride in attending a Certificate Programme at Harvard, Le Prof has a certain disdain for America, Ole G investigated, and discovered that besides Cambridge, Sir Professor also visited Maine (USA), where he was robbed, and received a bastonnade (a beating) from a couple of thugs, hence his scorn against the American establishment. Monsieur of course, refers to Augusta as the crime capital of the world; who gets jacked in enchanting, quaint, and safe Maine? the one (1), and only syllable US States, renown for its scenery, rolling mountains, widely honoured, and acclaimed for its seafood cuisine.

Addendum: L'enmmerdeur (the rascal) in MOI just could not resist, two (2) days after completing my investigation, I informed Monsieur le professeur, that I am a Mainer (from Maine), and inquired if he knew that Maine has the largest toothpick factory in the United Sates?

Note: Buff-Buff is still giggling about the latter.

T.I.A.- (This is Afrika).- Karibu: Welcome.-

When you waive expectations for a trip, it usually means you're going to enjoy it, so when I traveled to Arusha (Tanzania), I did not have any expectations to begin with, I was merely intrigued by the Mother land! this country is undoubtedly kaleidoscopic in its people, landscapes, and culture. Arusha is intimate, relaxed, and gentle, the pace is slowed, languid, unhurried affairs to say the least, but don't let the Tanzanians fool you, with their expressive brown eyes, and soft looks, in reality, they are shrewd, smart, and ingenious.

Anticipating, and awaiting for the day first ray of sunshine to caress your face, in my case, my tèt kokolo (bald head), as it rises over the horizon, is wishful thinking . Baby, it's cold, and grey outdoor, and it rains daily. I am on the other side of the world; your summer is my winter, just like your today is my tomorrow . The sun does not rise, but it goes down, it gets dark early around here, but everyday, in my always over-active imagination, I have pictured sunsets, a cold beer on the boardwalk , blue skies, sunny beaches, and ladies parading in thong bikinis!

Early on, I set out my quest to learn about the Masai, a task that I have found more challenging than I ever expected, sadly I have discovered that the new Masai generations are distant from their own tribal heritage, and though wazungu (Westerners) have brought many benefits: like classical education, and health care to the Masai, they have also pushed the Masai to "modernity", and the rejection of so called "primitive traditional practices", with development has come Blackberries, iPhones, Samsung Galaxy S III, HDTV, iPods, iPads, and imported plastic wares (tupperwares), and of course, the Westerners have brought HIV/AIDS.

Note.- Masai: sometimes spelled Maasai

Whatever the reasons, the older Masai (over 35 years old) have remained true to themselves, after all the Good Lord, have blessed them with a rich and unique culture, they are old enough to remember a simpler life, prior to  iPods, iPads, Blackberries,  Samsung Galaxy IIIs, and thank God, that they still enjoy traditional dances, and continue to practice their religion.

Driving around Arusha.-

A couple of hours driving in Arusha's main road, a dull moment never seems to approach us, as the frenzy, and craziness of Tanzanian life takes place just outside of our car's window: elegant, manicured, and pedicured women selling fruits & vegetables, motorcycles, and scooters passing us at 80 mph, men carrying goats on their bikes, kids running after cattle, a donkey or two (2) crossing the streets, and pedestrians sliding across our automobile's hood, surprising, and entertaining moments for a Mzungu (Westerner).

Behind the chaos, lying amongst la verdure (the greenery), two (2) wondrous mountains: Mount Meru, and Mount Kilimanjaro. An unassuming place, the people of Arusha has allowed us to explore a side of Tanzanian's life at a rather enjoyable pace, we have somehow managed to visit most of the local restaurants/bars (wink,wink), rumours that Ole G has already established a credit line at all the local pubs in downtown Arusha, are greatly exaggerated.

Note.- Mount Kilimanjaro (Kili): located in Tanzania (North-Eastern region) is the highest mountain in Afrika elevation 19 334 feet above sea level.

Mount Meru: also located in Tanzania, 10th highest mountain in the world, elevation 14 980 feet.

Last week, while attending Karibu Fair, I uttered: "This is the Afrikan heritage, I had dreamed of to find here", Tout l'monde ici parade avec une clope á la gueule (everybody is drinking). What better way to spend a day, than selecting the best tasting Afrikan wine, and cheese, what could be more pleasant than haggling over the prices of African crafts (paintings, tribal masks, kitenges, kangas, batiks, zebra rugs, etc...) or experimenting with the cuisine of Regional Eastern African countries, and even when you get drunk, blasted, wasted...you still believe that you are civilised, and cultured.

Notate bene.- Kitenges, and kangas are colourful inexpensive toile/twal, (linen/cotton cloth), it is simply the so called "wrap around" that Western women used at the beach, pool, but the Afrikan women are experts at the wrapping, some sinners moun ki gen madichon (cursed individuals), have christened the kitenge: "easy access" wink...wink.

Warning: Watching an Afrikan woman wrapping a kitenge or a kanga around her voluptuous body, may cause mental, and physical addictions.

Et le football dans tout ça?.- Are you ready for some football?.-

As all of you know by now, vuvuzelas trumpets are de rigueur, Hear ye world! this is the World Cup of pride, and joy, flags are flying proudly all across Afrika, ecstatic Afrikans hope that the World Cup, will forever transform the negative global perceptions of them forever.

Electric, unbelievable, and of course spectacular, cannot begin to describe the performances at the opening ceremony, hilarious exchange between South Afrikan football analysts, and German pundits; The analysts were congratulating all the World Cup organizers/workers/volunteers for completing the stadi on time, when one German guru blurted out: Of course, the stadi were designed by German architects.

One sad note, because of the tragic death of his granddaughter, Madiba did not attend the festivities , watching Nelson Mandela at the funeral of his teenage granddaughter simply broke my heart.

Note.- Madiba: Xhosa's tribe name of  Mr Nelson Mandela. 

• Los Albicelestes.- Seldom has such a big question mark hung over Argentina, Coach Loco Diego Maradona, is one (1) loss away from slapping a referee, his team is playing well (as of this week), cruised thru the first round, and has scored ten (10) goals in four (4) matches, The Albicelestes  have vanquished Mexico (3-1), but the world is still awaiting for Messi to score! Many foresee an Argentina vs Brazil final, nose to nose, ego to ego.

Latest news.- Earlier today, (28 June) Afrika Suni officials deported Argentina's barra brava (Argentinian hooligans).
Note. Albicelestes: Nickname of Argentina's soccer team, meaning: White & blue sky.

• Die Nationalelf (The National 11).- The Germans proved that they are serious contenders to win the sacred Cup, by annihilating their old European rival England (4-1). The 3 Lions (England), put their fans into nap-mode, against Germany, they did score a goal, that was disallowed, the ball was well over the line, for the history buff, it was deja vu (England vs Germany, Wembley Stadium, 1966 World Cup), and btw, where on earth was Kevin Rooney? let the recriminations begin, the Brits simply aren't that good, and they haven't been for a good long time. Over hyped, and under performing, that's the consensus on England, I have always said a true World Cup really only begins, after the Brits are eliminated.

• La Seleçao.- Another day...another game...another win, Chile tested Brasil's resolve for half an hour, I have fancied Chile as the dark horse, but coach Dunga's team has more than flair. La Seleçao is tough, resilient, and uncompromising. Lucio is the resident thug, this Brasil will not be intimidated (Brasil 3 - Chile 0). The lacklustre display against Portugal, has been forgotten, Brasil may have left Ronaldinho home, along with Adriano, and some sensational young prospects, but this team has been playing together for a while, and they really work well together. Now comes a dream match-up in the quarterfinals against the Dutch, no clear favourites, can any one beat Brasil? well, of course, on "Any given Sunday", the necessary bit of luck, and a whistle happy referee, but one thing for sure, when Brasil ticks...it ticks; there is always an "if" in football, but Brasil's air of confidence is accurate, and all eyes are on them.

• Bafanas, Elephants, Lions, and Eagles.- Five (5) out of  six (6) of the Afrikan teams participating in the Mundial were eliminated in the first round, The Elephants (Côte d'Ivoire) were trumpled, The Super Eagles (Nigeria) did not fly, and The Indomitable Lions (Cameroon)) did not roar, still 1 billion plus people continue dancing, singing, and cheering (Afrika party on), rumblings have already started about overpaid stars, not caring about the colours (Eto'o, Drogba, Kalu...) South Afrika's football team holds the singular honour of being the first host country NOT to move to the round of 16. Small consolation, in their last game, the "Bafana Bafana" (The Boys) beat the most arrogant, disjointed, and embarrassing squad participating in the World Cup: France. Les Bleus treated football's greatest show like an inconvenience, not a privilege.

p.s.- Les Bleus: nickname of the French national soccer team.

• The Yanks.- Went from "no shot to long shot", on a verge of a miracle, they ran into the spirited Black Stars of Ghana, and lost in overtime (Ghana 2-USA 1). What a nite of football in Afrika! if any team deserves the benefit of instant replay, USA and England are prime candidates. Let us hope that the Americans will retain their passion for football. Ghana next game is against the tough, well- drilled Uruguayans. Only Ghana stands in the way in the race between Europe, and South America. No Afrikan team has ever made it to any World Cup semi-finals, and Ghana is standing at the threshold of history.

• The Azzuris.- One (1) week ago, the Italians, World Champion in 2006, quietly slipped out of Afrika Suni, truthfully, The Azzuris were just mediocre.

• Schweizer Nati, La Nati.- The Swiss were anything, but clockwork.

The quarterfinals lineup: Ghana vs Uruguay, Netherlands vs Brasil, Argentina vs Germany, and Paraguay vs Spain.

Fans, and so-called pundits alike agree, that the referees, are yellow/red cards happy; while Fifa announced with great fanfare, that the 2010 World Cup tournament, has been free of doping (so far), and I arrogantly opined that, the Jabulani ball flies like a rocket. ..Don't touch that dial, stay tuned...

Note: Jabulani: Official World Cup SA 2010 ball.