For quite some time Facebook had enjoyed worldwide the dubious distinction of being the most egregiously neglected trash can for dumb losers and other nameless psychos. The informed word is that hordes of young folk who, from its inception, had claimed FB as their almost private turf, had since wised up and deserted en masse to other sites less ignorant, less venomous, less toxic, less menacing, less retarded and hypocritical. In short, less adult-friendly.
Also well known is that our current star-spangled government-under-siege had prided itself when in opposition on its media astuteness, by which phrase it sought to perfume its cowardly misuse of the social media to freely and anonymously disseminate anti-social merde that even the more unconscionable media whorehouses refused to entertain—not for all the tea and oil in China and Chavez City!
The officially undeclared “best brains” among us took comfort in the knowledge that every political bitch has its day of reckoning; that it would not be long before the World Wide Web would be featuring pussies singing their own versions of En Chou Kenny. Yes, en langue mama nous; our mother tongue: Creole, the only language in the world with the built-in ability to make dirty jokes sound even salopcious, especially in the tinnitus ears of audiences such as are to be found only at the renowned pleasure zones and theaters of Bois Patat, Bruceville, Gros Islet, Beausejour—and aboard weekend pleasure vessels that ply the erotic waters between Pointe Seraphine and our own Bay of Pigs, also known as Anse Cochon—replete with multi-faceted part-time hookers.
Meanwhile, our local yellow birds of prey, always slow on the uptake, were studying the techniques that had swept the stars into office at the expense of their own burned-out torch. Soon, a tittie-for-tattie war was underway, and no surprise that our acknowledged visionless prime minister never saw it coming. Or was too arrogant to acknowledge the wisdom of the Creole maxim that says meme baton-en qui bat chien noire-ah kai bat chien blanc-en! (The same stick that beat the black poodle will also beat the white mongrel.)
The latest effort by UNITEDPAC, widely recognized as the present opposition’s website, has bitten the prime minister’s press secretary (still a Facebook fixture) where only her husband is entitled to chew; a most sensitive area, strictly out of bounds to yellow intrusions.
Da Jade’s reaction via UNITEDPAC’s page was predictably immediate, and as indiscriminately stinging as only sugar-packed split teeth can be: “There is only one member of my family who is involved with the UWP. That is my father Francisco Jn. Pierre, who is preparing to run the Laborie seat for the UWP. [Imagine that!] No announcement was made in that regard. You do not have his picture and biography on this page. Yet you find it proper to put pictures of my brothers and sisters in this group with all kinds of false accusations.”
No, it did not end there! When Da Jade bites back, she bites back—deep: “Take this as a warning. Write what you want about me. True or false. Find all the pictures you can of me and put them up. I am a public figure. I will endure it. But show some respect for my siblings, please. They did not make me press secretary and they are not involved in politics. What you wrote about my brother is false. [She did not touch on earlier comments about her sister!] Take it down and issue an apology for using his picture and name in your political games. I will ensure that his lawyer writes to the political leader and others in the United Workers Party for bringing his name and profile into your political mess.”
You’d think the torch bearers would take a hint and not continue to politically mess with Da Jade. But noooo . . . The UNITEDPAC post remains in place. What’s more, Da Jade has fired off another fusilade, this time loaded with disease-promoting brown sugar: “UNITEDPAC Saint Lucia; Allen Flambeau Chastanet, Natoya Popo, Nancy Charles and the 48 others who put up this post and or tagged in it, and have it on their walls, publicizing it: take down my brother’s picture from your group with your story.”
Actually, Da Jade’s final demand would better have underscored her genius, and possibly carried far greater impact, had she modified for her purposes the famous line from Ronald Regan’s speech commemorating the 750th anniversary of Berlin. She might more usefully have demanded that Mr. Panapanyiere and his 48 accomplices tear down this wall!
I, for one, would’ve been more impressed. Even the singing pussies mighta applied for membership in Da Jade Choir! Then again, who knows? Maybe Da Jade, when she Facebooked her threat on behalf of her siblings, was writing in accordance with specific legal advice from a certain star Senior Counsel from the fair isle of Dominica . . . What’s his name again? Walks like a movie penguin, talks like a movie penguin but is really a legal eagle—if only in this region of legal killibwees!