Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
David Starkey's Big Booboo
"The whites have become black ... a particular sort of violent, destructive, nihilistic, gangster culture has become the fashion ..." Ooh, so that's what black culture is!
The response gives food for thought ...
And yet another thought-provoking response in the Gleaner's editorial of Sept 5.
Monday, August 1, 2011
What Emancipendence Was Supposed To Mean ...
Today, August 1, is Emancipation Day for Jamaica. Today we celebrate being 'set free, especially from legal, social, or political restrictions' (according to some online dictionary). Funny how this should crop up at a time when people are still debating whether or not we'd be better off as a British colony. Funny how on this most public of Caribbean holidays, we're still having trouble agreeing on the safety/desirability of regional airline carriers, our governments still bicker and frequently snub each other, and our nations are, by and large, wholesalely underdeveloped.
But here we are - we the emancipated.
August 6 will be Independence Day. A day on which we will celebrate 'the fact or sate of being free from outside control; self-governing; not depending on the authority of another' (according to the dictionary on my desktop). Never mind that we're still unable to adequately support the 2.5 million people on this little rock; never mind that more than half of our national resources and key industries have been sold to foreign entities; never mind the unemployment, illiteracy, crime, violence and general sense of frustration, deprivation and fear that punctuates Jamaican life.
Here we are. We the independent.
We claim it proudly. Because, like the antsy teenager who couldn't wait to leave her parent's home and stake her lot in the world, Jamaica is still lost in the reverie of adolescent pride - that first job, that first car ... that first 'real' kiss. But Jamaica is no teenager. Or young adult. Or even in midlife (although we have a crisis). We say we're 50, but that's not true either. Long before Britain decided to cut us loose, we were alive as a nation, plotting and planning our 'escape', dreaming of the day when we would finally be free. We watched them misuse, abuse, mismanage and misdirect. We saw the mistakes they made. Our minds didn't click into motion when Britain said, "We don't want you anymore." We were alive long before that. We're much older than 50. And it's time we started acting like it!
Emancipation? Independence? They are historical processes our nation went through - stages in our metamorphosis, aspects of our becoming ... . We did not begin to exist with these processes (as some seem to believe). So when we celebrate these holidays, when we claim these days as times to look back to our roots and assess our progress, I urge us to own our age - our real age - to see the full, open, barefaced truth of just how much/little has been accomplished.
Ah, yes. Here we are. We the emancipated. We the independent. A nation in denial of its age in attempt to assuage its ego? Happy Emancipendence to all.
But here we are - we the emancipated.
August 6 will be Independence Day. A day on which we will celebrate 'the fact or sate of being free from outside control; self-governing; not depending on the authority of another' (according to the dictionary on my desktop). Never mind that we're still unable to adequately support the 2.5 million people on this little rock; never mind that more than half of our national resources and key industries have been sold to foreign entities; never mind the unemployment, illiteracy, crime, violence and general sense of frustration, deprivation and fear that punctuates Jamaican life.
Here we are. We the independent.
We claim it proudly. Because, like the antsy teenager who couldn't wait to leave her parent's home and stake her lot in the world, Jamaica is still lost in the reverie of adolescent pride - that first job, that first car ... that first 'real' kiss. But Jamaica is no teenager. Or young adult. Or even in midlife (although we have a crisis). We say we're 50, but that's not true either. Long before Britain decided to cut us loose, we were alive as a nation, plotting and planning our 'escape', dreaming of the day when we would finally be free. We watched them misuse, abuse, mismanage and misdirect. We saw the mistakes they made. Our minds didn't click into motion when Britain said, "We don't want you anymore." We were alive long before that. We're much older than 50. And it's time we started acting like it!
Emancipation? Independence? They are historical processes our nation went through - stages in our metamorphosis, aspects of our becoming ... . We did not begin to exist with these processes (as some seem to believe). So when we celebrate these holidays, when we claim these days as times to look back to our roots and assess our progress, I urge us to own our age - our real age - to see the full, open, barefaced truth of just how much/little has been accomplished.
Ah, yes. Here we are. We the emancipated. We the independent. A nation in denial of its age in attempt to assuage its ego? Happy Emancipendence to all.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
'Survive' by Jacques Roche
This poem was written by a Haitian poet, journalist, activist Jacques Roche, who was killed six years ago this month. It's really beautiful, and I think the poem does justice to itself and its writer. Let it speak to you ...
You can destroy my house
Steal my money
My clothes
And my shoes
Leave me naked in the middle of winter
But you cannot kill my dream
You cannot kill hope
You can shut my mouth
Throw me in prison
Keep my friends far from me
And sully my reputation
Leave me naked in the middle of the desert
But you cannot kill my dream
You cannot kill hope
You can put out my eyes
And burst my eardrums
Cut off my arms and legs
Leave me naked in the middle of the road
But you cannot kill my dream
You cannot kill hope
You can cover me with open sores
Poke an iron into the wounds
Take pleasure in torturing me
Make me piss blood
You can shut me away without pen or paper
Treat me like a madman
Drive me mad
Humiliate me
Crush me
Give me no food or water
Make me sign my surrender
But you cannot kill my dream
You cannot kill hope
You can kill my children
Kill my wife
Kill all those I hold dear
Kill me
But you cannot kill my dream
You cannot kill hope
You can destroy my house
Steal my money
My clothes
And my shoes
Leave me naked in the middle of winter
But you cannot kill my dream
You cannot kill hope
You can shut my mouth
Throw me in prison
Keep my friends far from me
And sully my reputation
Leave me naked in the middle of the desert
But you cannot kill my dream
You cannot kill hope
You can put out my eyes
And burst my eardrums
Cut off my arms and legs
Leave me naked in the middle of the road
But you cannot kill my dream
You cannot kill hope
You can cover me with open sores
Poke an iron into the wounds
Take pleasure in torturing me
Make me piss blood
You can shut me away without pen or paper
Treat me like a madman
Drive me mad
Humiliate me
Crush me
Give me no food or water
Make me sign my surrender
But you cannot kill my dream
You cannot kill hope
You can kill my children
Kill my wife
Kill all those I hold dear
Kill me
But you cannot kill my dream
You cannot kill hope
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Guess Who's Back?!!
Dear Jason,
What took you so long?!! I nearly had a fit without you!! I swear, I really missed you! Why were you gone for so long? Don't you know that work is not the same without you? That my days are quite dreary and just - blah - when I haven't got your sketch comedy to listen to, especially when the constant whining about your absence starts to sound like an unhealthy obsession?
Jason, listen, seriously. Don't do that again. Don't leave me like that. Prior notice would be greatly appreciated, so that I can try to find suitable replacement (if that is possible). You can't get a person hooked on you, and then just up and disappear like that. It's not funny. And it's not fair. So don't ever do that again.
PS Tell BBC I said thanks for hearing my cry and bring back the Byrne! I love 'em that much more for it!
So, yeah, it took them a whole two months or so, but they brought back my Irish comedian, and I am absolu-totally-n-wholly thrilled! I love love LOVE Jason Byrne! I mean, seriously, I LOVE him, and I really really REALLY missed that show. He was gone for waaaay too long, and I'm just TOO excited to have him back.
What took you so long?!! I nearly had a fit without you!! I swear, I really missed you! Why were you gone for so long? Don't you know that work is not the same without you? That my days are quite dreary and just - blah - when I haven't got your sketch comedy to listen to, especially when the constant whining about your absence starts to sound like an unhealthy obsession?
Jason, listen, seriously. Don't do that again. Don't leave me like that. Prior notice would be greatly appreciated, so that I can try to find suitable replacement (if that is possible). You can't get a person hooked on you, and then just up and disappear like that. It's not funny. And it's not fair. So don't ever do that again.
PS Tell BBC I said thanks for hearing my cry and bring back the Byrne! I love 'em that much more for it!
So, yeah, it took them a whole two months or so, but they brought back my Irish comedian, and I am absolu-totally-n-wholly thrilled! I love love LOVE Jason Byrne! I mean, seriously, I LOVE him, and I really really REALLY missed that show. He was gone for waaaay too long, and I'm just TOO excited to have him back.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Quick update
Life is good. Check that. Life is GOLDEN.
I'm still living, learning and growing. I'm staying on top of my game and making progress - sometimes painfully slow, but always steady and sure!
I'm here. Love y'all!! Thanks for the support, the big-ups, the one-liners, two-liners and sometimes whole paragraphs of love that you keep showering on me. I'm not missing. I'm still right here ... and still very much large and in charge.
God is good.
Peace.
I'm still living, learning and growing. I'm staying on top of my game and making progress - sometimes painfully slow, but always steady and sure!
I'm here. Love y'all!! Thanks for the support, the big-ups, the one-liners, two-liners and sometimes whole paragraphs of love that you keep showering on me. I'm not missing. I'm still right here ... and still very much large and in charge.
God is good.
Peace.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Hope Springs!
He thought it was over.
She thought she was through.
They thought they couldn't live anymore.
I thought I'd seen the best of 'em all.
But then, hope springs.
And there's a new day.
And he can still smile.
She finds a laugh.
They share a group joke.
And I live to see it all.
Hope springs.
Don't forget it.
She thought she was through.
They thought they couldn't live anymore.
I thought I'd seen the best of 'em all.
But then, hope springs.
And there's a new day.
And he can still smile.
She finds a laugh.
They share a group joke.
And I live to see it all.
Hope springs.
Don't forget it.
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