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Black Pain in the Neck
EVERY Donald Trump-voting American who saw Monday’s shocking video of the white police officer with his knee on the neck of the now-late George Floyd, an African American, is rightfully outraged. The dead black Minneapolis man, George Floyd, like the dead black New Yorker, Eric Garner, before him, can clearly be heard begging the white police officer to spare his life, saying, over-and-over, for the full eight minutes it took him to die, “Please, Sir, I can’t breathe.”
EVEN BEFORE the opening lines of your open letter to Trinidad (Newsday, 13 May), I knew you were in trouble. Despite all that goodwill you flung so liberally at Trinidad in your first paragraph — it was like you were swinging champagne bottles against the hull of a new ship — I knew you yourself were going to end up dead in the water and the same Trinidad you were praising would very quickly sink you.
Songs in the Key of Lockdown
PARTLY BECAUSE he turned 70 on Wednesday, but mainly because I really “ent able” to think too deeply about this week’s shipload of Trinidadian, British & American firetruckeries, I want to pay a TGIF tribute, today, to Stevie Wonder, President Barack Obama’s favourite musician. Read more
God Help Those…
EVEN BY TRINIDADIAN standards, which always manage to slip smoothly below the limbo bar, no matter how low you drop it, People’s National Movement Minister of Social Development Camille Robinson-Regis excavated a new low this week.
Drinking Lysol-Flavoured Kool-Aid
MOST SUPPORTERS of Fat Nixon I dismiss unthinkingly, the way I do the Mormons, who believe an angel actually named Moron-I (spelled by them without the hyphen) buried their kind of holy book Bible-add-on written on gold plates in the 4th Century until he led a farmer to dig it up in the 19th Century.