THE TEMPERATURE is rising. There must be something to the global warming story. Each day’s build-up of the heat reduces us to sodden, soggy masses unable to think straight or act sensibly. This must be the explanation for the strange influences afflicting one and all.

Have you examined your light bill recently? Take note that the greater portion of it is not the cost of the electricity you tried to conserve, but instead a rat’s nest of varied and assorted charges for all kinds of things, especially taxes. Everybody is complaining but nobody seems to know what to do. Conservation is supposed to do the trick, but with the bills just keep on rolling along, getting bigger all the while, people are beginning to despair.

Meanwhile, we’ve just been gifted with a Cabinet reshuffle. The prime minister has moved the dominoes on the table, expecting a better outcome. The process still invites comment. Remember when Clive Mullings controlled Energy and Mining and then, one day, he didn’t? Well, now he does. His worth having been rediscovered, he’s been shuffled back to where he used to be. Got it? Actually, I’m quite exhausted trying to keep up.

But, to return to the reshuffle, why are we calling it that? Was there one before this? I don’t recall, so it is easy to assume that this is just the shuffle we have been waiting for. Okay, if that’s too much of a problem to solve, let’s see what has been achieved. Miss Dorothy has been the major loser, stripped of her two-in-one crown — Attorney General and Minister of Justice. She has now become the biggest casualty of the Manatt-Dudus crash. It has not been a good day, not only for her, but for gender advancement.

Look at the list of who and who is moving on up and see how few women are there — and this in a country which boasts of female power and how women outnumber and excel against their male counterparts. So, why do we have to use a flashlight to find the one-and-few females in the essentially male-dominated Cabinet?

Shahine Robinson has been given a step-up-inna-life to become a junior minister, while Mrs Dalrymple-Philibert is being touted as front-runner for Speaker of the House…two women out of how many other vacancies? No one is complaining. Remember the old Ska number Beard Man Shuffle? People didn’t question. They just danced.

Back to the boys…Speculation is rife about the reassignment of Dr Tufton. Why was he moved? He had gained the reputation of the Agriculture Wonder Boy, “madding dem” wid Farmers Markets and other innovations and a heavy promotion and public relations campaign to back it up. Add to that his photo-friendly looks, his sartorial elegance and an affable disposition, and he seemed destined not only for agricultural greatness but all the way to the top along the red carpet. Nobody anticipated his changing horses in mid-stream, but he has been shuffled to shed his light on Industry, Investment and Commerce. It is said that his arrival is much anticipated, while the agriculturists try to figure out the change.

The fruits of the field will now be the beneficiaries of the homespun wisdom and political acumen of Bobby Montague who is no stranger to food-kind, he being a son of the St Mary soil, brought up in a banana farm environment. His gift of the gab will make him fit in anywhere.

IN THE FULLNESS OF TIME we will see how the various shuffle moves succeed in the dance hall of our politics. Some have no complaint. Mr Delroy Chuck has finally got his heart’s desire — the Ministry of Justice. It is no secret (nothing in this town ever is) that he had been prepping for the honour for a good while and was sorely disappointed when he was shunted to the Speaker’s chair in ’07. Being a good party man, he went as bid, although his heart was always with his beloved Justice. Now, lo and behold, his dream is finally coming true. We can expect much. A happy worker is a good worker (don’t it?).

Over in the PNP’s corner, Sharon Hay Webster, who has been described by one of her pre-resignation compadres as a “favourite sister” in the party, has quit the family household. Blame it on the dual-citizenship duppy which refuses to play dead. It is an equal opportunity haunter.

Sharon is hopping mad that her colleagues seem to be in an unseemly rush to get her to renounce her US birthright even while her case before the Supreme Court remains unsettled. Now, as she walks away from the PNP, she is flinging stones behind her (metaphorically speaking) accusing her former colleagues of betraying the Manley heritage (father and son alike), the worst thing which can be said to a Comrade. Her intention to remain in Parliament as an Independent should make for some interesting times. Already, constituents are expressing doubts. Don’t be surprised at “heat in de place”.

MI SEH MI CYAAN BELIEVE IT. According to a recent poll, some of us would like to turn back the hands of time and would rather have remained British colonists in 1962 than become Independent Jamaicans. I find this dream of returning to the shelter of Missis Queen’s fold quite pathetic. It shows how desperate some of us have become. Some ascribe it as a reaction to receding hopes for a better life, others see absolutely nothing wrong with our Black, Green and Gold while others are eager to fly the Union Jack. Who do we really think we are?

The sad-sad story is that many of us refuse to read, listen, learn what the rest of the world is facing. This leads us into serious self-deception. In recent days, Britain’s teachers and other categories of public workers have taken to the streets to protest against the government’s cutbacks in national expenditure. This is not unlike the battle going on here between our government and various categories of public sector workers, but you don’t hear the Brits wanting to flee here for refuge, do you? Pragmatism over patriotism, mi dear.

As for a vacation with Mother England, that is no simple task. The permit process is no joke. It is costly (over $5,000 a pop) and non-refundable, when you face rejection which comes very easily, if cocktail talk is to be believed. How to explain why two retired professionals, owners of property, having strong family ties in the Motherland, whose names are not on the police blotter, who are the very models of sobriety, should be denied permits to attend their annual summer reunion? They feel humiliated and embarrassed, but can only take comfort in the fact that their rejection is not unique. Is that good enough?

Imagine their true feelings when they see the advertising campaign for British summer tourism being promoted on BBC-America with the lovely, accomplished actor Dame Judy Dench telling viewers, “YOU ARE INVITED.” You who?

FAREWELL to yet another friend… How I miss Margarietta St Juste, whose sudden departure at mid-week has shortened my already depleted list of special people. Time has its own agenda… and we are left with memories. Actually, I can’t believe she’s gone…

gloudonb@yahoo.com