Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Things That Go Bang In The Night

It hasn’t yet hit the news, probably because our local news organizations have one-track minds on Election Day, but another grenade took flight last night.  Those of us who live in the general vicinity of Buttonwood Bay felt the shake and heard the sound of the explosion.  By this morning we knew: Comptroller of Customs Gregory Gibson, or at least his house, was the target of the tosser who threw the grenade.

I’ve never met Mr. Gibson, but like every other citizen of this country, I know about the generally corrupt nature of his subordinates.  After all, who among us has not come across a customs officer who is suddenly, unexplainably wealthy?  By no means should you assume that I’m saying all customs officers are corrupt, but the ones who are really, really are.  Mr. Gibson, however, hasn't had a whole lot said about him, and when no one in this town can get any decent rumours going, well, that fact says something about you.

So basically, I figure, as do most people, that someone tried to kill Mr. Gibson merely for doing his job.  Mind you, this does not bode well for my country, when people attempt to destroy a guy for his honesty.  Remember the pseudoephedrine a few months back?  I doubt this incident is delayed revenge for that, so I’m forced to wonder what’s leaking through Customs now.

Mister Prime Minister, Members of the Cabinet, let’s quit trying to pretend that the crime situation is under control; that our forces can handle the problem.  We need to be honest about what’s happening to our tiny country, or we’ll never be able to fix it, will we?  Tonight I’m too tired and angry to be eloquent.  I just want my country back.  It's time to quit treating us like children, patting us on the collective head, telling us that it isn’t what it looks like and that we don't understand the global realities.  Get real and get on with fixing the problem before the few remaining Mr. Gibsons of our world do get blown up. 

Give me my country back!  In the name of patriotism, begin to give good people like Mr. Gibson the weapons (and the forces) they need in order to fight for our right to a decent, safe way of life.  It's time to get serious, deadly serious.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

On The Move

Those of you who follow these scribbles of mine will know that Friday night’s revelations on Channel 5 regarding Mayor Z’s possible ineligibility to run gave me nothing less than the kind of laughter that sets your whole body shaking and sends tears streaming down your face.

However, it does take the fun out of it if this is how the race ends, so after I got done laughing, I got down to some serious thinking –well, sort of serious.  First, what sort of proof was provided that she’s now fully resident at the palatial estate beyond the river and overlooking the sea?  Did someone provide pictures of (shudder) her underwear drawer?  Did they find a dresser full of hair-teasing tools and lotions and potions meant to keep her looking adorable for all except the Belize Times?  In other words, what constitutes incontrovertible proof?  I look forward to seeing if Z deems this one worth answering come Monday.

I will say that I do agree that if you’re not willing to live in a municipality, you ought not to wish to govern it either.  Therefore, I think that the quoted amendment was not only appropriate, but too long in coming.  Kudos to the UDP lawmakers no matter what their motivation was –and I hope they are not now persuaded to reverse course on the matter.  Remember the various City Councillors in the past who went abroad and ‘forgot’ to resign?  But maybe, since Z built and moved out to her mansion when she was Mayor, she kind of knew how her leadership of the City would turn out, no? Call her desertion more of an admission, if you will.

Over not a few drinks this weekend, I and some of my friends did wonder who spilled the beans re HomeGate.  I gave it 50/50 that it was her own party, and one or two others agreed.  Others in the group tended to cling to their faith in the diabolical nature of the PUP, and I gave them their props too.  Either way, this is an unambiguous test of the UDP leadership: will they suffer their own law to be overturned so as to maintain their candidate at any cost?  Or will they use this as the ‘out’ to rid themselves of a serious political liability?  Also, will Jules get his groove back where City Hall scoops are concerned?  Either way, Monday’s news should be interesting; let’s see what happens next. 

However this latest episode turns out, I will wend my unwilling way to the polls come Wednesday to cast my vote for God-knows-what to lead the City.  While I may vote for Chubby, let me make it absolutely clear that I do not regard him as anything other than a ‘NO’ vote for Zenaida.  Let’s face it, the man is so boring I can’t even stay awake long enough to mock him.

Yuh knoa, I wonder if Z has a spare floor in The Bates Motel in case we all need to move out of Belize City –or in case Creole Waggans wants to open a Ladyville branch.  She and Mr$ Moya can’t be using all three, can they?