The Secret Diary of Donald J Trump, aged 7i ¾
Thank God It’s Friday
BC on TV
Firetruckery of the Day
A Close Chavez
Every time I’m in Port of Spain, more people walk up to me and start speaking Spanish; Venezuelans, taken even farther than usual in their search for toilet paper. When I either don’t reply, or say, “No hablo”, they may think I’m from Brazil, perhaps, and don’t give a firetruckero, for sure. But, every trip to Trinidad, it happens more often; because there are more Venezuelan refugees/migrants entering Trinidad each day. You can’t blame them. The Chavismo experiment, given the Maduristo spin, is nearing total failure. Being in Caracas now – the city that once rivalled Buenos Aires for fine dining, opera and concert halls – is like being on the set of The Walking Dead.
No one believes the country has been destroyed by outside (i.e., American) influences, apart from the usual conspiracy theory subjects and President Maduro himself – and even he is faking it. There are several sources worth reading about what happened – Venezuela before Chavez, edited by Ricardo Housmann and Francisco R Rodriguez, gives the clearest Western economics perspective I’ve stumbled upon so far – but none can take you to the challenge Venezuela faces more swiftly or thoroughly than her citizens selling plastic flowers at traffic lights on Trinidad’s roads. Firetruckeros.