Sitting on this plastic throne under an open night sky, Prime Time News in the background, my mind drifts. The opposition minister bickering, I laugh to myself, he has some good points. Makes me wonder if he would be as critical were his party in power. The tax axe, that’s what the reporter calls it. I think how sad it is that this childish display is the only way Jamaicans get any true insight into the truth of our affairs. Politicians fighting on national television, they wonder why the international bodies don’t take us seriously. I have more diplomacy in my little finger.
Perhaps the worst part of this whole fiasco is that the Jamaican people themselves lay in wait of a rescue, like an unattractive victim. It’s ugly, almost as ugly as this situation. Truthfully politics is ugly all around the world, getting more horrid looking by the day. Politicians are now grotesque smiling fiends with crossed fingers behind backs in every single act. Sometimes I wonder if there is a sincere bone inside any of them.
Jamaica fifty, a sick joke, very sick. Infecting the minds of the people with the idea of a growing utopia while a seething hell brews beneath our feet. I myself have spent a great deal of time attempting to ignore the festering wounds of the treachery wrought by the leaders we entrusted with the responsibility to represent our best interests. The law of attraction doesn’t mean squat here. Imagining these overlords mean us any good when it is clear as day, is useless. They are merely out for their own, with a rabid hunger to fill their greedy, bottomless pockets at the cost of the lives and well-being of people. Human lives clearly have no meaning to them; they do not feel any remorse. It is exactly this useless hope in them that has led to the mutation of our democracy, into a slimy, unidentifiably ruthless creature.
In place of a functional hierarchy, we now live in a terrifying structure where the heartless droids are free to do all manner of evil while we as a people sit and complain under our breaths, powerless to riot. This is a nightmare.
That is exactly what they are now overlords, having the power to dip their hands into the accounts of the poor and hardworking citizens of this country, to fill a deficit that their mismanagement has led to. Some may say it is not their fault, that it is beyond their control, hmph, rubbish. They might be right about one thing, it is no longer their fault, it is ours, we allowed it to get to this point, we gave these sleazy untrustworthy heads of state the power to impose whatever order gets them off. Don’t think for a moment they don’t enjoy this.
Conspiracy theorists speak of how impossible it may be for a sincere politician to have a successful career, that the system breaks them before they have a chance to affect a change. This is a dreadful conclusion, it should be as hard to stomach as that cigarette I had earlier, like smoking vomit. Yet here we are, no boycotts, no riots, and no marches. The problem with these conspiracy theories, the thing that pisses me of, is the idea of a bigger power pulling the strings, leaving the smallest fry free of judgment. Personally I hold all of them equally responsible. How ruthless do you have to be to blatantly rob a people of their own hard earned money against their will?
Taxes, what a guise. Someone recently said in the gleaner that it’s clever. It’s not, it’s completely idiotic and plain as day, its extortion. Most of all its disrespectful, and I personally take offence. Am I to believe that these people are taxing us for our own good? An insult to my intelligence. You’re in power, it’s your job to find another way, not ours, that’s how I see it. If you can’t then maybe you’re not fit to run my country. They want our money, as if the billions already taken over the years do not suffice. No, they want our livelihoods, our souls. These so called ministers are really after our souls, ironic.
It is not enough for me to withdraw my money from the bank and stash it under my mattress, no. They’ll ensure the only way we can get paid is via the bank. Of course the banks are in on it, why not? They have no feelings, they only speak cash. Banks are supposed to be built on the idea of integrity and loyalty, what a facade. Easily allowing our heads of state to dip their filthy greedy hands into our lives, our security, our means of survival. What’s next with these people? Mass beatings, murders, martial law? You know why we have so many police patrolling our streets, not for our safety, for theirs. They’ve always known this was going to shit, that’s why they keep recruiting our sons and daughters who have no better opportunities. Mad, hungry dogs on leashes.
What about the journalists, who should be hungry to stomp on this obviously growing madness taking place in these times? Reporting on Vybz Kartel being beaten in prison by Sean storm, wasted press, save for a few. This has me questioning priorities. Chances are this article won’t even be published in any local newspapers. Most of these media houses won’t have the balls to publish anything seriously critical. So here I sit with gritted teeth as I consider the helpless spiral we have allowed ourselves to be cornered into. I wonder what happened to the mighty Jamaican spirit, what happened to all that power, the visage of violent, sporadic, no nonsense ruthlessness we enjoy on an international level. Are we so helpless now? This really is, all our fault, but it’s their doing.