FUCK TROUYA, SELL THE DAMNED PITONS

Trouya Beach? People are protesting because the government is approving the sale of Trouya Beach? Nobody goes to fucking Trouya Beach, but now all of a sudden, they care.

Looks like the dog doesn’t want the plantain but doesn’t want the damned chicken to eat it either. But people are like that. They don’t really appreciate what they have, but they don’t want anyone else to really appreciate it either. And so they defend their position with all kinds of pseudo-religious crap that they, themselves, believe, but never actually act on.

In the late 1980s, when John Compton proposed to sell Jalousie Estate to foreign investors, to build an exclusive hotel with no local access, everyone but the money-changers and lawyers were against it.

How could you do that? You’re selling the patrimony of the island. You can’t sell the most valuable parts of a small island when its own people are not developed enough to own themselves yet, far less their land. Blah, blah, blah…

They brought out their big guns…you know, philosophers and pseudo-spiritual types, tropical hippies who were born with tans and that troublesome Nobel Laureate poet guy, what’s his name? Who cares? Nobody reads that crap anyway.

In the end, the hotel got built, locals were practically gated out except by special invitation and the land that everyone thought was so damned sacred became a high class hotel that provided jobs for Soufriere, even though it fails as a business, over and over and over again. In fact, Jalousie’s repeated failures were such a success that now, government has approved the building of Freedom Bay in the same area, hoping to achieve…um…the same result, I guess.

The fact about Jalousie, St Lucia’s first truly controversial apartheid tourism project, is that while most Lucians feel like they lost something when the hotel took over the so-called ‘sacred land’, most St Lucians have never been anywhere near a Piton and have no actionable interest in doing so. Valuing the Pitons is no different than believing in Jesus. People swear by it, but when you look at their actions, it’s more like, ‘Hey, whatever.’

Lucians, right?

Wrong. Humans.

From the beginning of time, humans have made themselves believe in complete bullshit. Even the best and brightest of humanity has been, at times, completely full of crap. Pythagoras, the brilliant Greek mathematician was practically a cult leader who made a rule that you couldn’t eat beans, break bread or eat from a whole loaf. Plato was a sexist who thought that a man who didn’t use his brains would be reborn as a woman. Aristotle, Lao-tse, Hobbes, even my partner Spinoza, all full of bullshit beliefs that assigned spiritual and religious beliefs that amounted to nothing more than a hill of beans.

Luckily, most people don’t act on their bullshit beliefs unless they’re getting paid. Even when there is a penalty for going against the bullshit, people generally act in ways that fill their bellies, shelter them in bad weather and make them feel special, by fiddling with their genitalia.

Perhaps that is what really pisses people off about the selling of St Lucia’s beaches to spurious foreign investors who have no intention of building successful, sustainable businesses. They’re not on the payroll. They do not stand to benefit from the sale of a beach that they never went to anyway. Isn’t that what it comes down to?

Isn’t that the real hill of beans at stake?

It’s not about nature and conservation at all, is it? If St Lucia’s hotel plant would collectively decide to make local arts, crafts and agriculture an integral part of their tourism product and started paying the local producers first world prices, how many of the ‘nature lovers’ would still be out there agitating against the touristification of Trouya?

The preservation of St Lucia’s natural beauty is very much a tribal tradition in St Lucia. The nostalgic yearning for driftwood and seaweed does not cause most nature lovers to stop using plastic, ditch gasoline vehicles for diesel engines that fill up on coconut oil or install solar panels on their roofs. Like Holy Communion, baptism and other religious rituals, fighting for the environment is just an occasional thing that people do to make themselves feel good about themselves, feel like they are better than other people and as a front for not being one of the corrupt and lazy types who make a lot of money facilitating the destruction of the island.

Most nature lovers wear clothes, practice birth control and cook their food on fire. Most nature lovers are just as intrinsically knotted in the wires of technology and technics as anyone else. The hypocrisy of standing for the patrimony of an island which was taken from another people and given to you by people who didn’t belong there is stupefying. The hypocrisy of standing up for nature, whether you are a gasoline guzzling Bobo Shanti or a creepy, leering leader of church and state, you have to make up a new word for that.

Lucky for us, our leaders of church and state have no illusions about selling the so-called patrimony. If Allen Chastanet, Kenny Anthony and their acolytes are to believed, then there is no such thing as patrimony. There is only the economic reality of having to turn things into money in ways that would make Sir Arthur Lewis roll over in his grave.

Which is why it is odd that our leaders have not come around to selling the Pitons yet. I mean, if you’re looking for a big pay day from selling off the most valuable immoveable assets on the island, why wouldn’t you sell a Piton? After all, you sold Jalousie. You sold beaches in the north of the island, denying locals the legal use of them. You sold Fregate Island and Black Bay for no good reason and for no benefit at all. And now, you’re selling Trouya.

Might as well just sell the damned Pitons for a couple of billion and look for a buyer that Dantean butthole called the Suphur Springs. That would solve everyone’s problems. With the amount of money that we could get for a Piton, politicians could embezzle more money than ever and still have enough left over so that the rest of us can have good infrastructure and social services.

Without it, we’re just another Third World country with no food security. So fuck Trouya. Sell the damned Pitons and let’s get it over with.

Advertisements

TELL THE INTEGRITY COMMISSION TO KISS OUR ASS

Lucian Politicians and Professionals Can Give the Integrity Commission The Finger With No Consequences

This article and several to follow will detonate like Aime Cesar and Martin Carter poems. It will fuck many powerful people up the ass in a righteous way. I promise.

But the introduction is kinda weird. Just keep reading. You trust me, don’t you? If you don’t, then you don’t belong here.

THE PRAYER BOMB

I don’t have many good memories of marriage. Or at least, the good ones are drowned out by the bad ones. All my good memories are of my children.

Except The Random Prayer Bombers.

My wife and I created a futuristic bunch of Mama l’Eglise, based on my mother, my Aunty Martha and their Seventh Day Adventist prayer group. The real prayer group had some special techniques. They would pray for the crime-ridden city of Castries street by street, every lunch time, for days, maybe weeks, until they had covered every street in Central Castries and Marchand. They prayed with laser-tight focus.

The Random Prayer Bombers were like them, except taken to an extreme. Random Prayer Bombers would ambush sinners with holy water in the street, surround young girls in poompoom shorts and pray for their stupid asses and lay in wait in the shadows for robbers to pass by so that they could jump them and anoint them with olive oil.

One day, I’m actually going to find time to write that.

In the meantime, I’m building an integrity bomb in real life. And the people who should be reporting to the Integrity Commission of St Lucia are helping a whole lot.

They are making it really easy to blow some of them away.

THE BETRAYAL OF DEMOCRACY: A LOVE STORY GONE WRONG

We don’t have many good memories of the marriage of leadership and the people in our democracy.

This marriage has screwed up the lives of generations of children in St Lucia. The Integrity Commission was set up by the Kenny Anthony government to ensure that politicians would report all their earnings to the people while they were in office.

The IC was supposed to usher in an entirely new era in St Lucian politics where it was practically impossible to get away with corruption. It was supposed to make the abusive marriage between government and the people more honest.

It all sounded so good at the time.

Of course, it all went horribly, horribly wrong.

Otherwise, how the hell would we have gotten into this situation? How the hell did waste and corruption become one of the top three biggest bills to the government and people of St Lucia, in the era of the Integrity Commission. Only the national food bill and the national energy bill are higher. How did decent hardworking Negmarron end up in this African republic bullshit?

I’ll tell you how. And why.

It’s because this marriage sucks, that’s how. No, wait, that’s why. Here’s how:

When Kenny Anthony’s Labour bowled out Flambeau in 1997, the new husband of Lucian democracy promised that everything would be different. He promised no more abuse, no more stealing money from the family account to buy crack or cars or whatever, no more nonsense. He got down on his knees, told Helen that she was special and deserved better than what anyone gave her.

We all know how that turned out. Within two and a half years, we had Rochamel and by 2006, cost overruns had turned the decimated, disorganized fools of Flambeau into a fiefdom of Forty Feeves. I mean, into a team of political winners.

Of course, that turned out even worse. So we went back to Labour. Of course, that is turning out even worse.

I’m depending on you to at least begin to see a pattern here.

Perhaps we need to go a little deeper. Don’t worry, I’l keep it simple. Real simple.

It’s safer to simply not report to the Integrity Commission than to report, even if you are not a corrupt politician.

There it is. That’s it. You don’t even have to read any further. But I have nothing better to do, at this ungodly hour so I’m gonna write some more.

You see, the way Kenny and Lab-Flam set up the vibe, if you, as a clean politician submit your personal financial information to the Integrity Commission and they find some glitch or error, you could face a penalty for misreporting.

And you’re innocent, eh….

But if you, as a corrupt politician simply do not submit anything to the Integrity Commission, if you give them the finger and spit on their worthless authority, showing them that you know them for the worms that they are….

Nothing for that.

No penalty.

No jail. No firing. No expulsion.

Nothing.

Party on, dudes.

Over the next few posts, I will be naming names and giving the culprits and the suspects a shot at clearing their name.

If they don’t, you know how I roll.

You saw what happened to Rufus, right? That’s right.

Funny enough, some of the names on the list of people who totally failed the Integrity Commission’s test recently are some of the same names of the people who are suspects in the recent wrongful shut down of St Lucia’s most beloved/reviled blog.

Suspects, mind you. We haven’t convicted them yet.

However, in the relentless pursuit of the perfection of pawol jettay, DIS FLOGG will now name one name.

Just one name.

Who totally failed the Integrity Commission’s test.

One name.

Who will be a target of the Integrity Bomb.

We have him locked.

Just waiting to enter the launch codes.

Are you ready, Louis Lewis?

I know you’re not afraid. I don’t have enough money to scare you. All I have is some numbers and words, colliding with each other in the nuclear core of my brain.

Nothing to be afraid of at all.