Lest we forget.- Nou pa p jan m blye

I am I, ignorance and all

Oh, Ole G glows: mwen si telman klere, mwen dore.-

Encore une fois, it is posting time, commonly known in the webosphere as: Ole G's immolation time, but this time around, I have plenty of reasons for ignoring those who lack a certain lightness of touch, just because two (2) weeks ago, a gentleman, and a scholar, a well-traveled, homme du monde, inquired if I had ever considered compiling all the blog's radòt (ramblings) into a book. What can I say? Barack Obama, even in his "Yes, we can" days, was never so eloquent. Now, for just one (1) second, excuse MOI, while I polish my famousness.

Delusions of grandeur.- Foli grandè.-

Since my cretinism has never stopped MOI in any endeavour, the very same nite, piaffant d'impatience (jumping out of my skin), I wished my dear friend a lifetime of ordinary miracles, and went to bed with dreams of: Hemingway, Lafferière, Steinbeck, Phelps, Vieux, Fanon, Roumain, Alexis, a tête-à-tête  with  acclaimed interviewer Charlie Rose, The New York Times Best Seller list, TIME Magazine cover; la une du quotidien Le Nouvelliste, being awarded the Pulitzer Prize for excellence in literary achievements, winning Ayiti's coveted literary prize the Prix Henri Deschamps, Hollywood agents calling, Denzel is more than interested; winning an Academy Award (Best Adapted Screenplay), and the ultimate reward: AFIG presenting MOI with an award for just being fabulous MOI.

AFIG: Advanced Finance Investment Group, Main offices in Senegal, Washington D.C, and South Afrika, the leading private equity fund management company in Afrika, and soon the World.

Patatras.- The awakening.-

Early the next morning, I woke up (literally), and since I usually choose things by how they resonate not only in my heart, but also in my tèt kokolo (bald head), daylight helped me cut the malarkey:

• 1.- I am lacking le dénomminateur commun in most published, and best-selling authors: TALENT.

• 2.- This blog is as banal as a fortune cookie.

• 3.- For over a decade, the distinguished publishers, and book editors of Hachette, Gallimard, Editions Henri Deschamps, Doubleday, and Random House, have never acknowledged my manuscripts, nor returned my calls, or replied to my 17 853 emails (and counting); as a matter of the fact, most (ok, all) leading publishing houses in the US and Canada, and the greater world, have banned, blocked and/or banished Ole G from their mailing lists, and web sites. Can you imagine? one sends over 17 000 emails to a few publishing houses, and next thing one knows, harassment/stalking charges are pending.

• 4.- Writing a book involves patience, and inspiration, and when one reaches un âge certain, patience is no longer a virtue, and inspiration is deciding mayo or ketchup.

• 5.- I am still trying to figure out the correct spelling of "Gadafi" and/or "Khadafi", "Al Quaeda" and/or "Al Qa'ida", or is "Beijing" in "Peking"?.

• 6.- Blogrush (the blogosphere traffic controller), has qualified my blog as: inappropriate, obscene, tasteless, and crude.

Mon œuvre, ma vie: un gros truc en perspective.-

With all this going for MOI, dans mon optique ultra, I have decided de remuer ciel et terre, d'activer le réseau RELATION, to be a rebel without a cause, and to follow my friend's advice, hence, I am here to announce with great fanfare (kale tanbou/drum roll), that by February 2012 The Life and Times of Ole G (Volume 1), will be available in French-English-Kiswahili-Kreyòl, exclusively in paperback at Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, and Editions Henri Deschamps, for the non-refundable/non-negotiable/non-transferable price of USD $35 dollars, believe me, I am not making a dime of profit, et comme on dit: Profits can be creatively interpreted, one way for the tax man, another for the potential investor, and another for you. Sales, however, are absolute, detectable, and irrefutable. May I add that, a portion of the proceeds (.000001%), will go to the less fortunate, and the disenfranchised, (read the 7 billion (+) people around the world), what can I say? I am a fan of the great Ayitian philanthropist Wyclef Jean.

Mèsi Jezi, Jeova (not Jay-Z)- Thank you, Jesus.-

Time of the year to be thankful, grateful, and all that konpa, time to look back, and meditate, time to re conciliate, group hugs anyone? who cares if the Amerikans are revisionist historians? what is a couple of million of indigenous peoples, being enslaved, brutalised, murdered, raped and all? I solemnly swear that, I shall not utter such vile words as: eradication, extermination, and genocide. This is the time for us to devour our koden n (turkey), watch some football games (Go Cowboys), and enjoy the company of our beloved family. This is the traditional time for good food, good wine, and good sex; time for Black Friday; max out the credit cards; time for cliches, and trite Christian inspirational quotes †, anyways it is time for: end of the year celebration of officials/non-officials Pagan, Christian †, Jewish, Voodoo holidays; Halloween, Guede, All Soul's Day , Day of the Dead † (Lè mò †), Thanksgiving Day, Ole G's birthday, Agwe Woyo (13 December), manje lwa, kase gato , Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Christmas carols, Boxing Day, Ayiti's Independence Day, Jou d'lan; and the bacchanalia will only end with New Year's Eve/day (Jou d'lan); some even say, it will last, 'till 6 January († Epiphany, Les Rois, Kings Day † ) Ayibobo zanmi sekrè m yo; what more can I say? it is the perfect time for dysfunctional families to unite, and reunite, ask for forgiveness: No, my dear, last Easter, I did not actually call you a BITCH, I actually said :  you smell like a tropical BEACH, if you think about it, it is a lovey smell, blame it on my Kreyòl accent.

A few years ago, someone sent me an article, and I basically remember the general idea (give or take a few thousand words), anyhoo, what the author essentially tried to convey was that:

"...We have a tendency to take everyday things for granted, and not recognize them for the gifts they are, things people in dire straits would give anything to have. Sometimes I get bogged down by inertia. Or, somewhere along the way, no doubt between the perils of a Catholic upbringing, and the teachings of the racist/xenophobic French/Belgian priests of † Petit Séminaire Collège Saint Martial †, I, (Ole G) bought into the theory that if I am really, really good, then good will come back. Then when it does not, at least, not on my timetable, I get frustrated. Still, I wake up the next morning hopeful, and optimistic. Every day is new, with fresh possibilities. I guess I would rather think that way than be in the glass is half empty camp. Just like I know some people who have been through the most trying times that life can offer, and they still manage to see the glass as half full. That alone is one of the few reasons to be thankful, and happy..."

Despite some harrowing moments during the past two (2) years, I am deeply thankful:

• 1.- For Thanksgiving Day (Afrikan stylin') brutal, especially for the liver.

• 2.- Thanks to a steady diet of  nyama choma (bbque meat), bia (beer), and South Afrikan wine (90% sulfur), I have only gained six (6) kilos this blessed year.

• 3.- I am forever thankful, and beholden to the Ayitian Parliament, the indigenous/inglourious basterds never cease to amaze me, Et que le Bon Dieu reconnaisse et benisse the Ayitian Senator who uttered on the Senate floor: Des plantations de maïs moulu, I for one, cannot wait for  Des plantations de gratin.

Note: Indigenous Basterds (2008/2009?) is a film written/directed by my favourite director Quentin Tarantino.

• 4. Thankful, and gladsome that, I have reached middle age, and still can walk, dance, flirt, and make my wife go hahahaha, of course, she is laughing at my shortcomings (pun intended).

• 5.- Thankful, and felicitous that, I still miss my wife when she travels for a couple of days, and if you do not tell her, she will never know, because she has never read my blog.

• 6.- I am thankful, and content that, no one I love/care for is in an immediate life-threatening situation, thanks to Gran Mèt la, doctors/technology, medical insurances, and medications, we are still kicking vivan, natirèlman, like most Caribbean men/women, we are all affected by: high blood pressure, diabetes, high cholesterol, obesity, and a deficiency of vitamins D, C, B, A, F, J, K, W, Z etcetera... pito nou lèd, nou la (Better that we are ugly, but we are still here.)

• 7.- Blessed, and thankful for my kids: Boubou, and Kiki.

• 8.- Thankful, and ecstatic, for blogging; just because of YOU, dear readers, and members (all 3 of you), just a reminder: place your paperback order early, non-refundable USD $ 35 dollars (pa di m, nou pa t konnen) and  no personal checks.

• 9.- Thankful, and blissful that, my son, at the tender age of thirteen (13) is taller than MOI, and both of my kids are smarter than MOI, well, since I come from the Pygmy tribe, and I am not the sharpest knife in the drawer, the latter two (2), are not great accomplishments, but I am still proud of my children.

• 10.- Thnakflu, thta I cna txt nwo, I gto htis.

Ole G's badinage

See no evil, Hear no evil, Speak no evil.- Avèg, Soud, Bèbè.-

Blogging has opened my eyes, and made me realise that a great number of people do not grasp humour, they still take whatever I have scrawled down a bit too seriously, still take everything at face value, that is why, once again, I am obliged, to circulate a disclaimer, for the faints of hearts, especially the po-faced, and sobersided, those lacking a certain levity.

Inspired by a little chardonnay: Disclaimer.- Avertissement.-

1.- Tho I have written a few notes about Ayiti's Political Affairs, I am not jousting for a cabinet appointment in the Tèt Kale Government, not only that I am not qualified (strike 1), I am just a tad too honest (strike 2), and I am a humanist (3 strikes, you're out), mais que voulez vous? in my utterly boring existence, one of mes p'tites joies is to make fun NOT only of the aristocrats, the Morally Repugnant Elite (MRE), "bourgeois sans joie" bureaucrats, the politicians, but everybody in between, no matter their creed, gender, sexual orientation, race, pedigree, status, religion, political party orientation, and affiliation.
Notate bene: I have also mused about current events, sports, and entertainment, it does not necessarily mean, that I think of myself as an athlete or a thespian.

• 2.- I sometimes use crude language, not vulgarities, just plain crude, this is not the place for your children, or your children's children, it is also highly advisable to keep away the following people from this blog: who ever signs your paycheck, future, and current business associates; your spiritual guides: your rabbi, pastor, monk, priest, imam, and nun, oprah, your monsignor, your cardinal, the pope, your hougan, bòkò, and manbo.

N.B.- En toute connaissance/méconnaissance de cause (purposefully): spiritual guides were not capitalised (sa w di nan sa?).

• 3.- This is not a scholarly journal, brilliant dissertations, ingenious ideas, lush prose, piercing thoughts will NOT be found aquí; not even for one (1) second would you ever utter: EUREKA (Note:1) while you are here; the rules of grammar, syntax, and concordance des temps, et des lieux, (Note: 2) are often disregarded if not neglected, but I do know things, for example, last week, I finally found out what PDF stands for, I have always thought it stood for: Pay Da Fucka, it actually stands for: Photo Document Format.

Notate bene: Eureka (Greek): I have found it (English), bengo legal/mwen jwen n (Kreyòl); concordance des temps et des lieux: Temporal relationship that dictates the sequence of tenses.

• 4.- If you are a prude, a ti Jezi nan po krab, a virgin, if you have never experienced multiple orgasms; if you are a Ayitian intellectual, if you are not a fan of Miles Davis and/or Zenglen; if you do not listen to Maurice Sixto; if you believe blindly in anything that the racist, xenophobic, catholic priests, nuns, and brothers slave masters ever told you; if you are a tea bagger; if you are abusive to waiters, waitresses or anybody in the service industry, if you cannot laugh at yourself, and certainly at others, if you cannot spell BADINAGE, this mess, oops I meant, this blog, is not for YOU.

Note: Unlike the spiritual guides, notice that Miles Davis was capitalised (saw di nan sa?).

• 5.- As a young lad, I read the 2 volumes of "Ti Alex", Alexis de Tocqueville's classic (De la Démocratie en Amérique), I am also cognizant of the United States First Amendment (Freedom of speech), in plain English: all netizens, and citizens, in capsule, YOU, and MOI, have the right to freely say whatever we please, as well as the related right to hear what others have stated...told you, I KNOW THINGS.

Inspired by a little Marvin Gaye.-

Mother, mother, There's too many of you crying ♪♪♪,... Father, father, we don't need to escalate ♪♪♪... Picket lines and picket signs, Don't punish me with brutality, talk to me, so you can see ♪♪♪ Oh, what's going on, What's going on, Ya, ♪♪♪ what's going on, Ah, what's going on ♪♪♪

L'automne de Wall Street.- Wall Street's Fall.- (Pun intended)

Ten (10) scores from this glorious year 2011, historians will wax poetic about Le printemps Arabe (Arab Spring), I, for one, have giggled, even LMAO'ed at the dechoukaj (1) of the Arab dictators, and King of Kings, but there is something brewing, and simmering in Amerika, that has left the overly powdered, and well-coiffed pretentious pundits, on CNN, BBC, and FOX News analysing their heads off, I am referring of course, to the leaderless resistance movement at the center of Amerika's financial power: OWS (Occupy Wall Street/Les Indignés de Wall Street) it is a mirror of recent protests seen in Greece, Iceland, Tunisia, Egypt, Italy, France, England (in total 60 other countries).

1.- Dechoukaj (Kreyòl): from French "dessouchage"; uprooting (English); destruction, lynching of an individual or/and an institution; to exact revenge on oppressors.

The World Revolution.- Credo quia absurdum (I believe it, because it's absurd).-

Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night, and police brutality have kept away the OWS'ers, through it all, in unisson with their disenchanted brothers, and sisters from various states, and from all over the world, they have sung, danced, and marched against corporate greed, and corruption, they come from all political persuasions, all race, creed, colour and religion, their only common thread is: WE ARE THE 99%, of course, it is to the utmost importance to mention that, this being Amerika, the pizza joints, fast food restos, and the street cart vendors, in the Wall Street area are making a killing; Les Indignés have been shot by rubber bullets, and tear gas canisters, fan m, kou gason pran kout makak, a manif in Oakland (CA), a decorated Marine Iraq war veteran, had his skull bashed by police officers; Kanye West left his throne, and joined the demonstrators, la polis fouke (the police arrested) the world-renowned linguist, and activist Noam Chomsky, Academy Award winner Michael Moore (the obese documentarist) lost 17 kilos while dodging kokomakak, a few politicians have already started to associate themselves with the demonstrators; archetypal Hollywood, the beautiful people, the permed, dumb, and bleached blonde bimbos, addicted to bright lights, and cameras have jumped on the bandwagon, Ben & Jerry have dished out free ice cream, the videos of police brutality on YouTube are plenty, but Houston we have a problem, the movement is leaderless, it does not have a platform, it lacks a voice, a slogan, a certain je ne sais quoi, a certain konpa, an anthem, a rallying song, à la Civil Rights, Black Panther, and Hippie movements of the 60's :♪♪ Amazing Grace ♪♪, ♪♪ We shall overcome ♪♪, ♪♪ Almost cut my hair ♪♪, ♪♪ Lift every voice and sing ♪♪, assoifé (it thirsts) for Joni Mitchell, Stokely Carmichael aka Kwame Ture, The Grateful Dead, Timothy Leary, Allen Ginsberg, Malcom X, Joan Baez, Huey Newton, Angela Davis, Bob Dylan, and Jimi Hendrix.

Note: Manif: demonstrator, manifestant.
Note: Kokomakak: stick, bâton, billy club.

The audacity of Generation Next: This is their finest hour.-

I, for one, have failed to see this movement as anything, but an audacious act, and since the younger generation has an attention span of about 1 minute & 12 seconds, I expected that the middle class kids will get bored, or hungry, (48 hours max), and go back to suburbia, but to my great surprise, they have not abandoned the ship, however, attacking a blanketed "one percent" (1%) is not working, I personally, do not have a problem with the Steve Jobs (RIP), Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, Larry Page, and Sergey Brin of this world, those slick entrepreneurs have suckered the world into buying, and using their inventions, (iPod, iMac, iTunes, Facebook, Google) I am not upset with that percentile of the 1% at all, I am furious at big government, oil companies, (Exxon Mobil, Chevron, Hess Corp), insurance companies, (Allstate, AIG, Metlife), international banking firms, (JP Morgan, Citigroup, Credit Suisse, Goldman Sachs), pharmaceutical companies,(Pfizer, Roche, Johnson & Johnson, Merck), the Economic Hit Men (EHM), those who have polluted our water, destroyed our environment, those who have denied life savings medications to million of Afrikans, those who have mortgaged your children's future, those who have looted your 401K's, your Social Security/Pension funds, the boneheads in the US Congress, and Senate who cut funding to the arts, and education, the Ponzi scheme crooks; those who voted against the affordable healthcare plan for every Amerikan, those who want to pimp Medicaid/Medicare ect...

J'accuse et je dénonce.-

It is known that since the beginning of capitalism (as we know it), Major Multinational Corporations, with the help of an army of deep pockets corporate lobbyists, have always seduced the US Congress, and Senate with Cash, Ass, and Gas. It was the US Congress, and the Senate who created the framework for corporate socialism. It was Congress, and their compadres in the Senate, who looted the Amerikan people's 401 K's, pension and retirement funds, to bailout Wall Street investment bankers, it is/was/were Congressmen/women, and Senators, who have subsidized giant pharmaceutical firms, oil conglomerates; Congress, who exempted large American corporations from paying taxes on overseas profits, encore your Congressmen, and women, along with the Senators, who gave British Petroleum (BP) "investigative" powers from "Accused, Judge and Jury", when they polluted the Gulf of Mexico.

Empires never last: sink so I can drink.-

Truth be told, on a global scale, the 99% of the USA is the 1% of the world (figuratively speaking). Every person in Amerika has more opportunity, more freedom, more rights than the vast majority of the human population, to claim these are meaningless words would be a fallacy. The Republican Congress, the Tea Baggers, and the simple minded hillbillies, are determined to capsize Obama's boat, and they do not mind if a few million Amerikans go down with the ship, so they can grab the power they crave, dans le même ordre d'idées, let me remind the Wall Street demonstrators that while you are exercising your First Amendment rights, by now, you should know that political purges do not benefit the people, they only enable the elite to consolidate power as they exploit the vacuum. Josef Stalin, François Duvalier (Papa Doc), Moammar Gadhafi (?) put forth violent political purges, and look how their so-called revolutions went; Thomas Jefferson, one of the forefathers of Amerika once said: “The end of democracy, and the defeat of the American Revolution will occur when government falls into the hands of lending institutions, and moneyed incorporations.” (fin de citation).

Prezidan Mateli vs Depite Belizè.- Bagay la cho, wi'l cho.-

Indulge me for just one (1) paragraph, paske Mesye, dam la sosyete, gen de pawòl, ki telman cho, ke se an Kreyòl selman mwen ka pale yo, mezanmi tande estera nan peyi D'Ayiti: Anèl Belizè, yon Palmantè, (Depite Delma ak Taba), semèn pase, vole tankou yon papiyon sou tab konferans nan Palè Nasyonal, li retire kravat li, deboutonnen pòlto l, epi li rale fo pwen li, gonfle ponyèt li, pou li kase batay avek Prezidan pèp la: Michel Josèf Mateli; kk voye, 2 nèg yo men m antre nan manman lòt, Prezidan an mande Depite Belizè "to take it outside", goumen nan lakou Palè Nasyonal la (comme l'on faisait jadis chez les FIC), gen 2 zou 3 Palmantè ki te la, yo kenbe nèg yo, kalme lè zespri, kidonk batay la pa gentan fèt.

Kelke jou apre, Depite Taba a, pran avyon, pou peyi La Frans, se Depite plenipotansyè peyi D'Ayiti li ye, se tou nòmal, ke li vwayaje pou l ale diskite gwo koze avek Depite blan Franse parèy li nan Palè Boubon, a Pari; pandan se tan sa a, Prezidan Konpa a, fè yon reinyon o somè avek: Komisè La Polis, Komisè di Gouvènman, Komisè Hédouville, Rochambeau ak Sonthonax, Minis de La Jistis, Jij La Kou Sivil, Jij La Kou Dapel, Jij La Kou de Kasasyon, pou l fè yo konnen ke Depite Belizè manke La Prezidans dega, epi dayè, mysie se yon evade de Gran Prizon ke li ye, se goudougoudou 12 Janvye 2010 a, ki mete vakabon sa sou moun, men m kote a, òd fòmel pase, pou yo arete sanzave a, a la minit ke l retounen an Ayiti...jedi 27 oktòb, Palmantè Belizè debake nan Ayewopò Tousen Louvèti nan Pòtoprens; avek sipò patwouj MINISTA, PNH fouke Depite Bèl Bèl, yo fout li anba kòd, "bon à être transporté au Pénitencier National", lòt Palmantè yo vekse, yo rele: "Anmwey, Aba Micky diktatè", nèg pran kalòt marassa, gen yon ekip ti mesye antyoupwet nan Radyo Nasyonal ki pa wé lòt bagay pou yo fè, yo mate Konpa Micky (Ole school stylin') nan radyo pèp la: ♫♪...Mwen pa pè anyen, ♪♪, Micky pa pè anyen ♫♪ Sa k pa kontan anbake ♪♫♪ , natirelman, espikè nan radyo pèp la, envite Prezidan an pou l "kale dada l jan l vle , paske peyi a se pou li". Aksyon piblik avek La Jistis Tèt Kale an Ayiti, bagay yo grav pase yon aksan grav (aksan fòs), pa gen diktatè si pa gen sitirè, et petit à petit la dictature fait son nid.

Addendum: Tèt Kale: Martelly's campaign slogan 2010/2011; bald head or all the way (English); also have a sexual interpretation in Kreyòl.

Palè Boubon: Palais Bourbon, National Assembly, Assemblée Nationale (Paris, France), located on the left bank of the Seine.

Addendum: Translation in English or French of the above passage, is available upon request.

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.