Friday, April 12, 2024

THE LOWDOWN: Redemption time


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Case 1: The writer. Tennyson gone, a bit older; Peter gone, about my age; Roy gone, younger by some. Obviously my time draweth nigh.

I was given a great opportunity. And far too often I blew it. Up to last Sunday night a lady asked disappointedly, “Why do you write what you write?” And I honestly don’t know.

Mark Twain told me off proper: “The heaven-born mission of journalism is to disseminate truth; to eradicate error; to educate, refine, and elevate the tone of public morals and manners, and make all men more gentle, more virtuous, more charitable, and in all ways better, and holier, and happier; and yet this black-hearted scoundrel degrades his great office persistently to the dissemination of falsehood, calumny, vituperation, and vulgarity.”

I talked to a Jehovah Witness last Saturday about the thief on the cross. He figures it isn’t too late for me. I told fellow Guatakans I wanted to be a better person. Chirped one unimpressed Grenadian: “I hear that fowl cock crow before and it still end up in pelau!” Meaning that I’m doomed.

Did you see that video on sexual harassment? Apparently telling a woman she’s pretty is harassment. Or even going, “Nice!” I want to stop all that.

Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Whatever, if I end up a thief on a cross, I won’t be a hypocrite. I’ve done wrong things.

Case 2: The politician. I once asked a politician what he would do if a fellow minister known to be corrupt was facing a no-confidence motion. He replied: “That is one of the difficult areas in politics.”

It wouldn’t be difficult for me. But then I would never be a politician. When tackled off record about an untenable development, one whispered: “Money pass.” But he didn’t say that in the House.

Google “The day Israel attacked America” and watch the video. In the 1967 Six-Day War, Israeli planes and gunships deliberately and knowingly attacked the virtually unarmed USS Liberty, killing a large number of Americans.

Yet the whole affair was hushed up. The survivors’ testimony was disregarded and they were threatened with court martial if they revealed what happened. The Jewish lobby warned Lyndon Johnson in no uncertain terms that his political future depended on their financial support. He buckled. Politics at its dirtiest.

I suspect a politician on a cross would never admit to his wrongdoings.

Case 3: The buggerer. The same lady who dissed my writings implored me to highlight the dismal level of service in Barbados, indifferent employees who feel the new act makes them fire and discipline-proof.

With serious problems abounding, it is amazing the university should have a forum on buggery. Especially since they reportedly fired a doctor for giving his views on that very subject. And even more so since I am told it concentrated on a “disconnect” problem identified by Peter Wickham.

Mating dogs do have a “disconnect” issue lasting up to half-hour. I didn’t know this also obtained in buggery, but really, is this a topic for national debate?

Buggerers were known and tolerated in Barbados from way back when I was a boy. We knew the predators, we knew those who kept to themselves. They reached the heights of business, government, entertainment, the arts and media.

So why do we still support laws against buggery?

In my first job at the Pine Livestock Station, Freddie Holder taught me the intricacies of the female pudendum. (We used artificial ones to collect bull semen.) Size, elasticity, temperature, lubrication have to be all just right. Add to that a delightful aroma all fitted into the delicately-formed miracle we call “woman”.

Without doubt, God’s finest creation. And for a very good reason for on her attractiveness depends the continuation of our species.

Buggery is a denial of all that. No matter what the white countries say, it is deviant behaviour, an aberration.

Our buggery laws deter no practising buggerers. But they serve another purpose. In cases of rape, they protect our youths from any predators’ claim that consent was given. So leave them be.

I suspect that the buggerer on the cross won’t admit guilt like the writer, won’t deny his wrongdoings like the politician. He’ll pretend his was normal behaviour. May God help him. 

Richard Hoad is a farmer and social commentator.


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