How much hotter can it get?
Is it the heat, or my imagination, or have I been looking at the world through theatrical eyes, revisiting the English playwright Noel Coward's famous line: "Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun." We don't see too many Englishmen behaving recklessly these days, but there is enough sun and madness to go round, for man and beast, as the temperature gets hotter every day.
The heat traps us inside as well as out. It is difficult to understand how there are persons who cling to the idea that there is no such thing as global warming. The righteous will weigh in with the thought that it is also a warning. Some have even been heard to declare that we're already "there". How else to explain all the wickedness and stupidness which we've been up to?
The heat has gone to our heads. Why would a responsible parliamentarian get trapped by "Twittermania" and end up tweeting more like a real-life bird? From afar, I've admired what I've heard of Dr Dayton Campbell who, in the general election in which he was elected MP for the constituency of North Western St Ann, proposed a health-care plan for his people which sounded quite reasonable and believable, him being a doctor and all. I found this a refreshing approach to a sensitive issue. He scored again with his analysis of the challenges faced by tertiary-level students trapped by loans which they are unable to repay. The man obviously was giving real thought to a serious challenge.
So, why would someone so sensitive to issues of citizen representation go on to sidetrack himself by an inane matter like who competes in a beauty contest? For a start, they all look the same creatures, heavily made-up, laden with hair abundant, sashaying around in what looks suspiciously like underwear, responding to non-essential questions with answers which do not advance the plot one bit.
Then, here comes Dr Campbell. For reasons best known to him, he decides to join the Society of Twittering, commenting on the physique of a sectional winner, a rather slender lass. Apparently, Heaven alone knows why the goodly doctor felt impelled to compare the young lady to the "mawger" national budget. Not surprisingly, the doc's observation did not go down well with her supporters, leading to demands for an apology, a request to which he subsequently acceded, by which time he had already got a good tracing from the Tweeties.
Not being a permanent resident of the Twitterverse myself, I have had to depend on the knowledge of others to educate me to the fact that this was not the first time Dr C got into "pempehlem" for Tweeting. The most recent episode makes it twice that he has had to apologise, I'm told. It would be a pity if a young man, with something positive to offer in a country where strong leadership is a dwindling commodity, should waste valuable time on "chupidniss".
As to the remark that the queen of pulchritude was as mawga as the Jamaican economy (or words to that effect), obviously Dr C wants to lose the work. If you want to be a second-term occupant of Gordon House, take my advice -- leave the tweet-tweet to petchary and other birds. Please sir, stay with the real issues.
"BACKSTORY" has become a popular heading in journalism, especially in the US where most likely it was invented. The backstory is intended to focus on what went on behind the scenes leading to a news-making event.
Our local Backstory of recent days is about the former star athlete who now peddles bag juice on the city streets, due, she says, to an absence of employment and society's neglect. It is a heart-rending story which understandably, has brought response, including some brutal comments from the social media fraternity.
While there is a story behind the story, it may never be heard publicly. "Not everything good fi eat, good fi talk", the elders say. Things are not entirely what they seem. So, for now, let's just say there is more to the story than meets the eye. The usual suspects who are always judged and condemned for neglect might not be as guilty as you think.
HAVE YOU NOTICED how President Obama's conscience-searching, soul-bearing reflection offered up to the American public last week Friday on race relations in his country soon lost traction because of hysteria about the birth of the royal baby over in England. Mr Obama's call for a conversation on issues of race, especially between black and white, was promoted by the Trayvon Martin-George Zimmerman travesty of justice. The president chose his words carefully as he tried to awaken his people to engage in necessary dialogue on a festering sore in the American psyche. The disparity in justice issues, the wide gap between blacks and whites when it comes to economic advancement, the lack of trust and more are on the urgent agenda which Mr Obama wants to see his America address. When will it happen? There are those who have already indicated their intention to have no part or lot with it. How do you converse with protectors of special interests who openly proclaimed: "Trayvon got it coming?"
SMOKE WITH FIRE: The pro-smokers lobby seems prepared not to go down without a fight. Even party loyalists like Mr KD Knight has served warning against his party that anyone who would dare keep him from "cocking up his foot and puffing away on a cigarette at the end of a long day", as he so vividly described it, could find themselves in conflict with him. One can almost hear the minister of health proclaiming: "Good mi do, tenky mi get." All right, don't rush to Wikipedia. Hear the Ancestors. "Don't expect thanks for doing good."
NAME THE BABY: A little African-American girl asked to suggest a name for the royal baby, recommends "Kanye", as in rapper, father of daughter North West.