Saturday, April 20, 2024

THE LOWDOWN: They are not God


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Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
And it is most dangerous to give any individual or group such ultimate power that their actions cannot be questioned, or commented on, by ordinary citizens.
In 1960, our Chief Justice Sir Kenneth Stoby spoke as follows: “In a democracy the right of the press to criticise the conduct of public men is rightly treated as one of the great safeguards of a free society. Any man, be he judge, magistrate, politician or civil servant, must expect to have his conduct exposed to public glare.
“The knowledge that legitimate and forceful criticism will be forthcoming acts as a check to arbitrary actions by public men.”
Amen! As far as I know, no one has been cited for contempt for lambasting the Dominican Republic’s Constitutional Court’s ruling that Haitians born there will no longer automatically become citizens.
Nor should the Caribbean Court of Justice [CCJ] object to two questions: (1) Whereas the European Union was touted as a beacon for CARICOM to follow, and whereas unrestricted immigration has become a major complaint there with anti-union sentiment rampant and increasing, should not the CARICOM treaty with its similar unrealistic, utopian clauses be modified?
(2) Given that Solomon the Wise couldn’t tell which of two women was telling the truth, could the CCJ tell us how they did it? This would be of considerable benefit to mankind.
Our doctors as well need to be brought under public scrutiny. My friend Professor Fraser was recently concerned about the spread of alternative medicine practitioners. But it is with good reason that I trust a concoction brewed by Mr Springer the vegetable man, a wild cherry bark and horehound remedy from Sylvie the Canadian lady or the many silent doctor treatments by a fellow columnist.
I could fill this column with life-threatening mistakes made by local doctors. And for a start we need to end the nonsense of doctors writing a squiggle that only pharmacists can read. They have computers, let them print out prescriptions with a copy for the patient.
The list goes on. Talk show moderators, politicians, academics, newspaper editors, wives, nutritionists all need to to realise they are not God.
For instance, low fat milk was recently being recommended for children on Mornin’ Barbados. Maybe they should check the studies showing that low fat and skim milk lead to obesity, not full-cream milk. A paradox but true.
Much more serious is the stance taken of late by homosexual groups. Just last week, Professor Brendon Bain was fired by the UWI under pressure from homo groups because he expressed his considered medical opinion on the dangers of men having sex with men.
That a university, the hallowed haven for dissenting views, should take such action is unthinkable. Worse yet, where homo groups stifle opinion by using their clout to get critics fired, they are acting not unlike a terrorist organisation.
Enough of that. A brief word to my current page-sharer, Veoma.
Vee, we’re stuck on this page 13 island. Me on top, you down below. I’m trying to behave. But when last week you broadcast how you’re naked down there lathering and re-lathering, that’s way too much information. It’s making things very hard up here.
Besides, if your water went off during your shower, couldn’t you have knocked three times on the ceiling and let me bring some down to douse you properly?
Now you have me waxing poetic and late with my column. So here’s a poem:
Were I a lucky cake of soap in Veoma’s nubile bath, I’d lather ’twixt her toesy toes and then I’d travel aft. Instep, ankles, round her heel, massaging every pore; her legs uplifted one by one, who could ask for more?
Then upward, onward, like our anthem, inspired, exulting, freeze! No worthy gent without consent goes above a lady’s knees. So a flying leap to her navel base, innie, outie, deck? Another leap to clear the hills, and scrub around her neck.
Now homeward bound, I’m skiing down, to stop I know not where; my eyes shut tight in modesty and consequential fear. But, wait, I’m slipping, sliding, downward gliding, to end up with a splax; why oh why didn’t someone say, the lady had things waxed?
Happy birthday (yesterday) to the best wife in the world.
Richard Hoad is a farmer and social commentator.


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