Musings of an Imaginary Mind...

I used to write a regular column entitled 'Not Necessarily the News' where made up stuff would be passed off as real news all in the name of comedy, but it had to be scrapped because I simply could not compete with the genuine articles (no pun intended) and because I was apparently stepping on too many tender toes. Having been reliably informed that former Justice Minister and former High Court Judge Herbert Volney has announced that, not only is he sure that I do not exist but that he has unequivocal evidence to prove it has made me reconsider my decision, seeing that, as a non-existent person, I could then write whatever I wanted and never be sued. How much fun could that be? And as alarming as his statement was to those named on my birth certificate, the real concern here has to be that at one time this individual sat in judgement of others and surely if ever there was an argument against the death penalty it has to be that someone this cuckoo and unhinged could have ever been a judge. That however, will have to be addressed some other time as I am eager to deal with all the possible consequences of his words.

Like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy (who are allowed to break and enter people's homes without fear of real or soldier-police), thanks to Vooping Volney I now had a super power similar to that of the National Security Minister who is (apparently) free to use the Parliament to slander whomsoever he pleases with impunity, and like him I could now just make stuff up from here on in without concern because, I simply did not exist.

Think about it; real writers are burdened by proof and so have been avoiding connecting the dots between the long missing in action Daryan Warner and a story floating about since December of a high ranking Cabinet member's son being held in the United States for questioning, but not me, I could ask. And as an unreal person I could also get away with offering the Prime Minister a flashlight for her illumination as she says she is in the dark on this most glaring and potentially embarrassing of issues but expects us to trust her to light the way on others.

See where it's heading? Real flesh and blood writers could never ask Sports Minister Anil Roberts how his spanish lessons were going because they would have to stay away from such things but again, not me. I could ask him about sex, lies and videotapes if I wanted, as well as gas, grass and, well, hotels with stripper poles if I felt so inclined.

I could ask the Attorney General to investigate the long standing allegations making the rounds in the legal fraternity that some lawyers who benefit from the state's largesse are obliged to give regular religious donations through a third party lawyer well known for his 'singing' ability if I wanted, and I could ask him if he knows to whom the same Justice Minister was referring when he said those donations were made in brown paper. As these are the kinds of allegations his talents for grand exposés are uniquely suited to I would suggest that he get right on it.

I would ask Stephen Cadiz straight up when was the last time he mentioned Keith Noel's name even in joke, like, 'yuh hear de one about de dead creole whose back ah ride all de way into office?' I wouldn't have to worry whether he had a sense of humor or not or if he knows who made number 137 in the gruesome greatest hits that year because according to huggable Herb I do not exist.

What else would I do with this un-Parliamentary privilege? I Could ask Prakash Ramadhar what his real plans were now that he has everyone confused. I would ask him - is the Congress of the People a political party, a pressure group, a football side? What were his views on Warner accusing De Lima of conspiring to commit treason? Did he think that the government should have their own private army to sic on people? What did he have for breakfast, waffles?

I would ask Winston Dookeran if 'New Politics' was a lie all along designed to fool the natives into giving him the bligh? Or if he realized that he has become the living definition of politics having a morality of its own?

As an unreal writer I could ask Kirk Waithe of Fixin' T&T if he is ever going to come out of the political closet and 'fix' anything outside of the UNC, or is it that his pen didn't know how to spell PNM?

I could ask Amery Browne why he still wears a balisier tie in the Parliament even though his leader has asked him not to? Is he still considering challenging Dr. Rowley for leadership as is rumored in the party?

I could ask Aunty Verna if everyone with multiple births was going to get a house, and how many children did one have to have at one time to qualify?

I would ask Patrick Manning if he was familiar with the term 'drawing money under false pretenses' seeing as he is now into his second year of sick leave and none of the sycophants could get vex because you cannot get vex with an unreal person, yes?

As a figment of everyone's imagination I could ask Comrade David Abdullah who was funding the 'Round Table' and why and David would not have to answer. If I was real and if he was ever selling barbecue tickets to pay for rallies and so forth (all in the name of transparency) I would buy and support the effort, but so far it does not seem to be an issue and well, unreal people don't eat barbecue anyway.

I would ask the outgoing President (no stranger to immunity himself) why he proclaimed Section 34 in the dead of night on a holiday knowing that the rest of the country were celebrating fifty years of no adult supervision? Did he not think the whole thing a tad strange? If yes, why did he go along?

There are so many questions that could be asked by an imaginary person that a real person couldn't, and thanks to the Head Whacko in Town, it wouldn't matter if everything written here was real or not if I in fact did not exist. I may have to one day challenge that mad hatter to provide this evidence he claims to have just to see what inside that mind is really like, but until then I have no choice but to keep it real...