... to one and all

What was your day like?

The sexton of Holy Saviour Anglican church in Curepe, Trinidad, had a real drama this morning. He was abducted right in front of Royal Castle, Curepe junction. A man stopped and offered to drop him to church. Then when he got there the man said, "We going for a run." They stopped at the corner of Ragbir and Maclean Streets and picked up 2 other men. One took out a note book and the other asked the questions: When the collection is taken up?... If kept at the priest's house?... How much he works for?... What bank they put it in? They took him as far as Cane Farm Road, Trincity, then dropped him at Kaydonna Cinema. The sexton came to church later to tell the priest and make the report to the police and he was still in shock, most likely counting his blessed stars he was still alive. There have been a recent wave of hold-ups of business places in Curepe. The St. Joseph Catholic church got held up a short time ago - the crooks stayed in the congregation the entire service and then held up the persons counting the money. A woman was abducted on Tuesday. Police says she put up a struggle. This was evidenced by the discovery of her bloody dentures. I can't describe the level of disgust I feel right now. This isn't the first time I am going to say it, but it is definitely the most passionately I think I will ever meant it: I have no intention of ever living in my homeland again.

Oh, by the way, my mother is the priest at Holy Saviour Anglican Church.

ALCOA, please stop.

There isn't enough being done about ALCOA's proposed aluminum smelter plants in Trinidad. That much is obvious since the plans have not been halted. What is more troubling is the government's refusal to come clean on why this venture is being allowed to proceed despite the warnings from around the world. Partnership in the deal is not an excuse for permanent destruction of the nation. Find out what you can do to stop ALCOA and the government of Trinidad & Tobago from constructing the aluminum smelters. Then do it.

And the scores are in.

United Workers Party wins the St. Lucia general election with 11 seats to the St. Lucia Labour Party's six. History has been made as Sir John G.M. Compton becomes the world's oldest Head of State, a record previously held by Fidel Castro. Times are about to change as they tend to do, but now, more drastically. As a forienger in the Helen of the West, I was privy to an objective view of the entire affair, and suffice it to say, there were some very disappointing performances and behaviours exhibited by individuals on both sides of the game, none moreso than the outgoing Prime Minister, the Hon. Dr. Kenny Anthony. But as politics is not my passion, nor is the commentary surrounding it, I'll leave this one as a statistical stamp on my environment's history.

Worth Quoting.09

That's three out of two she's lost.
Don't you mean two out of three?
No, she didn't even know number three was coming.
Me, commenting on a recent run of creative conflicts among co-workers.

Unclick.003

Untitled

Dark lonley alley
Flash of light, dull burning pain
Please call nine one one

I see stars

It was a cloudless night, but the air was still moist with the day's showers. Conversations were light and comical, crossing into the threshold of tear-jerking hilarious at times. Topics ran through their natural progression from gossip, social commentary and inevitably to sex. Every now and then though the odd celebrity faux pas personally witnessed thrown in at pertinent discussions. On one such insertion of celebrity association, someone tossed the lit match to what can only be described as a leaky petrol station.
Surmised conversation as follows:
"So my cousin is meeting George Bush next week."
"Really?!? ... interesting. How's that happening?"
"The something or the other institute is honouring her father and the president always attends to present the thingy and so on."
"Oh, ok, so a sort of meeting by default then."
"Yeah, I guess, but she does get to meet him personally as part of the event though."
"Well that counts if she talks to him then."
"Funny you should say that, because I asked her, 'What are you going to say?' because she isn't really a big fan of his."
"What did she say?"
"She's thinking about it. But I mean, if you were going to meet someone who both indirectly and directly affected your life through their actions, wouldn't you want to say something? Even in that maybe 30 second chance you get to meet them?"
And thus the flames were ignited.
So here's the scenario: You're at an event to honour a family member with international recognition, about to meet one of the world's most influential human beings. You're not ignorant, and you've already rationalised the consequences of dumb actions.
What would you say and/or do?

Excellent

Scott Adams (creator of Dilbert) pointed this out in his blog today. Bill Gates looks like Montgomery Burns from The Simpsons, doesn't he? We won't get into mentioning the unmisssable implicaitons of this similarity. I have nothing against the guy except that his company won't develop MSN for Mac (for blatantly obvious reasons of course).

Wake us up

I had an old dream
I was me and so were you
It was not very clear

Sam Brown draws for me!

Yay! I sent explodingdog a title to illustrate and it was chosen.
Here's Sam Brown's interpretation of me next. please?

Just a little more

a pillow held tight
your scent lingers - i miss you
now it smells like me

Rant in A Minor

Why do they bother with the "Remember Me" check box if they never remember me? In three consecutive visits to my dashboard, I was required to check in each time. And there, for a fleeting moment, I was misguided to believe the Outernet Elves actually cared who I am. You've been here before though. You'll remember me, won't you?
La la laa, bam bud-duh bum... kasplash [cymbal]!
That is all. Thanks for coming [again].

Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

[Dhara's entry]
It's that time of year for me. Only comes around twice, but boy does it seem to last forever! Those humans who share my home have me locked down out on the balcony and have tied Buddha in the furthest corner of the house. Are they mad? I NEED my man right now!!! I get a glimpse of him sometimes through the glass doors. I think he's suffering more than I am... at least he's still eatting this time. He's figured out how to get out from the leash clip twice in vain attempts to come rescue me, so the folks have him strapped with Dad's climbing carabiner. He'd need opposable thumbs to beat this one. Poor guy.
But enough about him. What about my needs? I tried being more lovey-dovey with them, and it gets me as far as their room, but still no action. Dad says despite the smell, this is good for me because I haven't been as confrontational with other dogs, and I put on a few pounds too. I try to tell him, it's just a phase... I'm too horny to care about that right now. He says I'm still too young for fooling around with boys so just cool out. I'm in HEAT Dad!!!
Whatever!
Anyway, next week it will be back to normal. Mom says "so much for my clean house". Ah well, what you gonna do. You know you miss me sneaking up in the middle of the night to keep your feet warm.
Who wants the heat now, huh?

Free Wallpaper - "No Evil"

This isn't an original concept, nor is it probably a new execution, but it's what happens when I am bored and uninspired on a lazy day-before-Friday. I guess the whole try harder thing will kick in from next week. Until then...

Random snipets

1. It is elections time in St. Lucia. Something claiming to be responsible in me required that I post that fact. There are few things that interest me less than Caribbean, especially small-island, politics. It is a pretentious, ignorant, exploitiary, degenerate point in time in my environment's current history... Hold on, is there such a thing as "current history"? After all, whatever "it" is (and you can't buy this one on eBay) won't be history until no longer current, right? Furthermore, something has to happen to make it historic, not just historical. But that's another day's gramatical argument. Let's amend that to recent historical existence. This fiasco will repeat itself with the same chicken and rhum (and fete) formula in the next five years anyway. I have dealt with some of the key players and it is safe to say that given the motives, reasons and methods they plan to employ not only to hopefully (do we really hope for this?) run their constituency, but simply to gain the seat, nothing will be done for the long term benefit of the nation. At least not in my lifetime.
END

2. I sold the Bumble Bee (my '98 Honda Hornet/599) last month. The end of another chapter in my motor book. A friend is going away this week to go look for new bikes, one for himself, one for yours truly. I can only wait.
END

3. I've worn flip-flops to work every day for the last two weeks, and on average, three times a week previous to that. Just thought you should know.
That is all.
BEGIN

Morning Melodies

Twelve kids playing pan
There is no better commute
My day will be fine

To die for a smile.

Saint Cecilia by Guido Reni, 1606

Today is the feast of St. Cecilia, the Patron Saint of Music and Musicians. As with most saints, her story is one of romantic tragedy, Middle Age inhumanity and ignorance, and inevitable martyrdom.
On the way to work this morning, in the midst of the thickest part of traffic on my three minute, 48 second commute, the was a steel pan band on the road side playing the most cheerful tunes. They were set up under a tent on the northern side of the round about without any signage or self accolade. Commuters out of earshot on the southern side wore stony faces of varying degrees of unfortunately regular annoyance. However, as you overtook the stagnant line of vehicles with your gaze, those grave countenances yielded to curiosity, mild amusement and eventually sheer joy. Smiles broke where once lips were held taut. Heads bobbed where they once stayed low. Hearts soared where once they barely sputtered.
Doesn't matter your religion to appreciate what a little music, some selfless offering, can do to brighten everyone's day. It may horrify some to think of why we are priveledged to have such a treat this morning. I think the horror may be balanced if at least one person honours not just her memory, but her faith.
Thanks for your sacrifice St. Cecilia.

Eight forty-four and a half in the night

19 minutes of half-hearted experimentation resulted in the above.
I stayed at it because of a half-hearted comment when I began.
I posted it was to remind me to try hard, or stop.
Nothing in between is acceptable.
Or so it should be. Ugh.

Recent Work

Two friends of mine have opened private businesses (independent of each other). For their corporate identities, they came to my business.