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The Secret Diary of Donald J Trump, aged 70 ¾

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Thanks, My Ass, Mother-LaVar!

23rd November 2017. Thanksgiving Day. Kicked that short fat kid who’s always hanging around Melania in the ass hard this morning. He should fuck off out of the White House and go and play with his sister, What’s-her-name, the ugly one. Bad mood for days now. Took off the Tweet gloves with that Niger-descended African-American Mother-FaKar Father LaVar. Saying I didn’t get his loser lightweight drug-dealing shoplifting kid out of Gina jail. Called him poor man’s version of Don King read more

Every Day is V-Day When Vlad Telephones

21st November 2017. Who knew Niger, that country in Africa, was spelled with one ‘g’? Go figger; or, I guess, “Go figer”. I thought it was too good to be true, to have a country called Nigger that we could have said they came from. Sigh. Many people are saying being able to call them that would have opened up the debate in the way many fine people would have liked. Instead of how politically correct and closed it is now, with them “taking a knee” during the great American read more

Thank God It’s Friday

Leap of Faith

HE CAME to us in an unusual way, via 15 years of imprisonment, near-starvation and physical abuse, and 45 minutes on my wife’s bicycle, her right hand holding the handlebars, her left cradling his head, with his emaciated body stretching along her forearm to her elbow. A longhaired, short-breed dog with fur that had once been white but was now the colour of the mud in the canefields, through which he’d dragged himself, and the six-foot-long, heavy iron chain attached to the tight, rough rope around his neck for days, if not weeks, after his escape. He could barely take the two or three steps forward into the small country lane along which my wife was cycling that allowed her to notice him. He really didn’t need the extra misfortune but he was already nearly-blind in his left eye; most of it looked like a marble. She was able to make the difficult, read more...

​Nobody else but me

EVEN FOR people like me, who’d happily pay to do their jobs, the weight of existence itself can get a body down. Days like those, I wonder if I’d be happier if I were someone else. Here is the list I considered on Wednesday, when I couldn’t bear to think about the rough beast with the fat body and the head of a dunce, whose hour had come round at last one year before, when it slouched towards Washington to be born. Theresa MayAdvantages:Can make Parliamentary majorities disappear with the snap of an election. Can run through wheat fields if no one in authority is looking.Very likely to get an early retirement.Slightly better haircut than Angela Merkel. Disadvantages:Brexit.Having to appease my Irish Catholic fundamentalist governmental partners. A worse haircut than I have now.Having to take read more...

BC on TV

A Trifecta of What’s Best on the Box for 19 November 2017

The top pick and the top “Also Ran” today probably both deserve the title of BEST FILM OF THE DAY. Today’s Number One Film: The Omen, 8.10am, Fox Classics. Watch this if you liked The Exorcist, The Shining or Rosemary’s Baby. The less said about the plot, the more the viewer will enjoy this creepy horror using Biblical prophecies about the rise of the Anti-Christ as its base and huge atmosphere all the way to its summit. Immaculate pacing keeps the viewer on the edge throughout a series of unsettling events and memorably chilling images, with the very last frame being a contender for the best ever shot in all cinema. Horror movies rarely get better than this, particularly in the “supernatural” sub-genre. Unless you believe in Heaven and Hell and the Devil and all the other horse manure, Read more...

Firetruckery of the Day

​Guess Who's Back in Firetruckery?

I haven’t firetruckery-ied around here for some time. I’m not sure if my reluctance to post arose because the US presidential election has by itself provided more firetruckeries than the world has needed for months, so more from me seemed otiose, or because I have myself been under a lot of all kinds of pressure in the same period. For one reason or another, e.g., most of them lying outside my choice, I have not been at home in Barbados for longer than two consecutive weekends in the last 15; that alone is enough firetruckery for anyone who doesn’t go to work everyday on an airplane: how are you supposed to maintain a garden if you’re mowing the lawn three times in three months? Add to that both the lawn mower and the weed-whacker going on strike at the same time and you start to get the big picture of my little firetruckeries. More significantly, I’ve had to accommodate big changes in my little ones: my son broke his wrist the day before he was to start a two-week Arsenal football camp, necessitating my having to rush off to England; and my now-adult daughter moved away: my little girl is in the big city.

So the antics of the Donald just haven’t registered on my consciousness.

Anyway, this is just to say that, though I’m on the move again – to Port of Spain, for the Trinidad & Tobago Film Festival – I’m also moving away from contemplating my own little firetruckeries to the bigger ones we all are getting in our nen-nen; whatever that means for my good mood.

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Trini to d Bone

The Arima Kid - Pt II

You were doing something serious and important?But of course!Yet it was trivialized?[Interrupting] Everybody, everybody, everybody!Was that not painful?Very painful. Even my closest connections, some of my immediate family and other people would say, “Listen, man, why you don’t do something serious?” But it give opportunity! I remember we went to Cedros and there was a man with a funny face. They called him “Ugly”. He was making faces at me from the audience. People were saying, “Move from here!” But I put him on [camera] and asked him, “How you going?” And he made his funny face. He got a job just from that, what we called DEWD or Public Works. He became a personality, more than a clown. He became “Mr Ugly” instead of just “Ugly”. So it Read more...

BC Pires

is a barrister by qualification (class of 1984) but, for the last 28 years, has done nothing but write to earn a living. His flagship column, Thank God It’s Friday, has appeared in either the Trinidad Guardian or the Trinidad Express since Ash Friday, 1988. He has written about film from an informed lay perspective for the same period and is as close as the cricket-playing West Indies gets to a film critic (though he refuses that label). He has written for many publications, including the London Sunday Observer and the London & Manchester Guardian. Since 2010, his personality-based feature, “Trini/’Bago to D Bone” has been appearing in the Trinidad Guardian. Since 2002, he has been the editor of Cré Olé, the Trinidad & Tobago annual restaurant guide.
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