edge
Stacks Image 82615

Subscribe to Thank God It’s Friday

TGIF columns are in order by date from the most recent.

Scroll down to search or read more

God the Father

FATHER’S DAY and Y’Boy wondering what the firetruck it is going on in this Trinidad and this world. Y’Boy’ father dead long days so Y’Boy does only get presents, not give them, and, Sunday gone, Y’Boy collect a nice, broad brim hat to shade he delicate pate in the sun: you has to remember that Y’Boy have only some empty follicle, abandoned like orphan, on top he head whereby other men does have natural sunblock called “hair”; is a long time now Y’Boy chirren ent give him no shampoo neither no conditioner for Father’s Day.

Father’s Day reach but Y’Boy on’y find he-self saying, “Buh-wha-mudder-is-dis”? Last week, Y’Boy write ‘bout how the world cram two weeks of insanity into one; this week, is like everybody forget ‘bout sanity altogether, and is only madness in we nen-nen, 24/7.

Last week wasn’t no Father’s Day for no father-priest, neither. Fr Clyde Harvey, one of the world’s nice guys, get rob in he own Downtown church by three of them little bandit black boys which is Trinidad number-one product; is like Trinidad replace oil & gas with little boy bandit & murderer as we number one natural resource. And, although it shameful that a nice priest get rob in he own church, nobody shouldn’ta be surprise, becaw the laws of probability and statistics apply more in Trinidad than the rule of law.

And now Y’Boy remembering Keith Smith, the late Express Editor-at-Large (with the emphasis on the “Large”), who-self dead-and-gone like Y’Boy father. Keith did write ‘bout some little boy murderers he get to know ‘bout in Laventille. One was 14 years when he kill his first man, three years younger than Y’Boy own son, who still look like a child to Y’Boy. Is in Keith Smith column Y’Boy read the devastatingly appropriate description of the guilt of the man – or, in Trinidad case, boy – who have to live his own life knowing that he take the lives of other human beings:

“They toting ghost”.

And some of them, Keith say, toting five-six ghost before they reach voting age; them better than James Bond: them ent have no licence to drive but they have licence to kill.

And Y’Boy study he own former law school pardner, President “TC” Carmona, who Father’s Day message was for the fathers of disabled and handicapped children to stand by their offspring, not abandon them for they mothers alone to raise; and Y’Boy done know the TT president is a optimist, but Y’Boy still doesn’t could figure out how TC could want Trinidadian fathers of disabled children to involve they-self with they handicapped children when they doesn’t even want to take on they healthy ones!

Y’Boy bound to-must to-have to explain that “disabled” and “handicapped” is he words, not the president’ one; Y’Boy really ent able with politically correct, grammatically wrong expression like “differently abled” and “handi-capable”, whereby TC and other well-intentioned well-wishers does misuse; Y’Boy never see any sense in calling a blind person, “differently sighted” or “hard-of-seeing”, as if them suddenly wouldn’t be blind again; and Y’Boy never hear ‘bout no party game called, ‘visually-limited man’s buff’; in fact, Y’Boy want to believe them kinda euphemism is not for the disabled, but for the able-bodied, so they could feel better when they sidestep without a thought all the daily life realities the handicapped have to struggle with, like flood on the main road and you stuck in a wheelchair, not a boat-chair.

And, as he say, “flood”, Y’Boy study how Trinis fill up Facebook with worried posts ‘bout Tropical Storm Brett, almost until Mark Zuckerberg did want to rename the site, “WeatherBook”, and how so many Trinis post, when Brett turn out to be a breeze, the same old firetruckeries that, “God is a Trini”.

And this is the real madness, if you ask Y’Boy (and it remain the real madness even if you ignore Y’Boy): it have grown men and women in Trinidad, and the world, who believe in something they know in they right mind cannot exist: a God in the sky who make everything and who have a perfect, unquestionable plan for every blade of grass and every wandering microbe and every autistic seven-year-old chained to a tree in China and every insane 71-year-old chained to the destruction of the planet in the White House.

And, people sincerely tell they-self that, if they beg that all-powerful giant in the sky, He, God, will change His perfect plan so that one of His own storm, which He-self bring out of nothingness and, in his infinite wisdom, send to lash we, wouldn’t lash we again.

Father’s Day and Y’Boy ent have no father and every child who ever born will be fatherless in time, if not right now, and people still will believe that God the Father will look over them and make everything all right.

Even though they could see for they-self that everything is firetrucked up.

Becaw them just cyar bear the thought that it mightn’t have nobody to protect we.

Who toting firetrucking holy ghost now?

And Y’Boy tell he-self that he better off putting his faith in Al Pacino than the God of Abraham.

Firetruck God. Give he a pair of sock and a tie and burn down His firetrucking house, oui. Becaw He will only let you down.

Whereas Y’Boy done know that The Godfather Parts I & II will never fail him.

Leave the faith. Take the reality.

BC Pires confesses that God the Trinity is better than Part III of the Godfather Trilogy, if only because one stars God the Son and the other, the director’s daughter

Navigational Links