Knocking B.C. Pires- into shape

For the last few weeks, I've been reading BC's Barbados in the NATION with bemused interest. I confess, the curiosity arose less from the content of the editorials themselves and more from the fact that he took over the Monday slot from Rob.

Rob didn't always write genius. Rob was a little pretentious and he has this haughty English way of throwing in all kinds of long-winded asides to show off his intellectual briliance. But Rob wrote spicy, like a naughty little school boy slipping in the smut and grinning behind his words for getting away with it. Frankly, that piece about the man who gave it to the horse was the first chunk of solid literary filth our paper's dared to print. I loved it.

But back to B.C.

In many ways that's what it feels like to read his articles. It's been over thirteen years that I landed "as a new resident...upon this rock". Beyond the fact that Mr. Pires uses way too many dashes- confusing his sentences with a lot of unnecessary bits of information to make him appear more (or less) charming, as though it could ever be charming to infer that Barbadians are tight-assed, micro-sized, humourless- certainly it's very funny indeed! to be referred to through a series of commas and hyphens- Hitlers- Mr. Pires and his play on Dick is just not funny, (but he does do a nice job of buttering bajan botsy as he bows and scrapes over his printing presser who incidentally, gets two-thirds more readership because IT is entirely 100% crap (Bajan or otherwise) and EXACTLY- what this country appreciates).

I'm of the opinion, that one needs to earn the right to disparage this hole. Crucifixion by Trident, so to speak. Dead sheep can't measure up to good ol' horse sense.

Dead burying with Dead

My heart bleeds for the family of Marion McPherson who watched in horror as soil technicians tossed second hand ribbons and wreathes unto the casket of Granny Mc-Phee at her burial on September 24th.
According to the Nation, when Mc-Phee's grandaughter confronted Canon Mayers about this gross act of desecration, he admitted that getting rid of the dead by burrying it with the dead was standard graveyard tidy-up practice.
McPhee-second generation- isn't to be hoodwinked by any dead bury dead Christian adage. She's taken it up with the Bishop.
Forget the notion of protocol. Why should she give the cleric she's hired an opportunity to account for his actions? Not when the precious memories of mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, sister, aunt, cousin, second cousin, niece, sister in-law twice removed and friend Marion have been forever tarnished by old flowers being thrown on her new wooden box!
And how could Canon Mayers' apology be accepted as sincere? As tutor of pastoral counselling at Codrington College, he surely has no concept of empathy and is obviously a man who has never in his life, had a moment of experience in dealing with grief and mourning.
No. Karen Richards has no issues with her ego whatsover. And to prove it, she's on a mission to protect the rest of us who might find ourselves one day, being eaten by maggots with someone else's condolence card as company.
"Something like this" will never happen again, if she has anything to do about it.
So Karen Richards has forwarded her anti-litter letter right to the man upstairs. Not to God.
To the PM. (I know the halo makes it hard to differentiate)
If that fails, I suspect she'll take it straight to Lambeth.
Or join the People's Cathedral.