THE LOWDOWN: By yon bonnie banks
Strange how similar events affect us differently. Al Gilkes mentioned stripping naked to beat the heat. But he was worried about being “crushed in the rush of admiring females”. Meanwhile we males, fearful lest he post a nude selfie, prayed THE NATION has a blackout rectangle big enough to spare us his “full monty” should they cover the event.
On the other hand, the thought that sweltering, overheated Veoma might consider going au naturel triggered a resounding “Yesssss” from loins everywhere, maybe even her horny hound Billy. Nudity is a powerful weapon. Ask Buh Lion or Donkey.
I can handle sweltering, any amount, but can’t take cold, no amount. Which is why I dread having to visit the ancestral Scotland today. My greatgrandfather, John Hoad, married Margaret Donald from Aberdeen. They came to Barbados in 1857.
We in the Scotland District of Barbados (ScotDist) feel cheated at not being allowed to vote in the recent referendum. We would have tipped the “Yes” vote for an independent Scotland.
And we’re seething at the dirty tactics employed. Just as a poll here sent voters scurrying to vote for a strong opposition (so strong it became the Government), so too panic that “Yes” might win brought out the heavy guns with scare rumours and false promises.
Finally, it came down to unfortunate initials. It was suggested (on BBC, no less) that if Scotland separated, the rest could be termed the “Former United Kingdom”. The Glasgay boys countered with the “Associated Scottish Shires” as a name for independent Scotland. It was no use. Too many, it was feared, would have headed south to Former United Kingdom.
We in ScotDist are thirsty for independence too. But we won’t make the same mistakes. Since hearing Mark Williams and a businessman discuss how votes are bought en masse in Barbados, we will no longer be trusting polls.
So how to take over the land? Not by squatting. And I suggest David Comissiong is playing with dangerous fire in stating that “all the land in Barbados has been paid for many times over by the blood, sweat and tears of the ancestors of the black people of this country”, implying that squatters have a right to take what land they wish. That is not the way, David!
I myself have had to face dreadlocked brethren wielding knives and claiming that “this land” (the one I own) belongs to their Father Jah so they could take anything they want from it.
Comissiong should be aware that the Six Men’s land was (is?) owned by an ordinary black man, no plantocrat he, who phoned me nearly every week to complain bitterly about the squatting and how he was treated. And as for the developer being “some wealthy expatriate”, didn’t Comissiong tell us that he too wasn’t born here? Is he therefore any less an expatriate?
Anyhow, we ScotDists are fed up with the virtual paralysis crippling this country. Even the deadlocked Sargasso Sea is taking up residence here. We note that in mere months ISIS created a new “Land of Is”. Barbados is now more like the “Land of Was”.
We, however, deplore their violent ways. That is madness. Instead we’re going back to Al Gilkes and Veoma. Imagine all the females rushing to see Al indecently exposed. Imagine all the males who would flee at the sight. Imagine the opposite reaction to a raiment-free Veoma.
So see the battle in full array. The socialist, neo-liberal infantry of FOB (Former Barbados) will advance on us from the south. The males and females of the ScotDist adultery (we reject sending infants to fight) will meet them on all fronts, no holes barred.
Our troops, all chosen Al Gilkes and Veoma lookalikes, will wear kilts with nothing underneath. To the skirl of “Come up to my bamsee, boy, and aie, aie, aie” played on our bagpipes, we will be doing a Q In The Community line dance. And at a given signal, all will raise kilts and taunt: “You think you could handle me?” The enemy, some rushing forward, some fleeing, will be routed in confusion.
In honour of our inspirators our organisation will be called “Al Veoma”. I will be caliph, Osama ben Dickie of ScotDist.
May a speedy recovery attend Roy P. Byer, long-time friend, boss photographer, captivating raconteur.
Richard Hoad is a farmer and social commentator.