Three Men On a Boat

In a life where context is never relevant for most people and summary judgments are made on the basis of sound bites that are played over and over again, it seems antagonistic for any real thought process to seek its fruition by dealing with the reliability of fact.

There was a time when I sat before many people who had what some may call random calls with respect to my person but it never really was an issue that would interest anyone else except sadistic punch-drunk nurses in Darfur unless you though that the Zoe's Ark lot were not guilty of the subversion.

Last night the bites went on and on about how Gordon Brown thinks that Zimbabwe should do this or the other. I had a laugh of course because this is the same chap that the lot in Zimbabwe think to be so insignificant. He will really condemn until his face goes to blue and bright summer pink and it will not change anything in the grand context of things. As for Comrade Thabo, he towed the party line and said there was no crisis in Zimbabwe. Of course this is true depending on which side of the table you are sitting, if there is a table to talk about in the first place.

So then it came to me, in a moment of madness, inspired by the bravery of a distinct experience that took its place when I was about five. The intimacy of that moment of course has been tempered by the massaging of the prejudice of history but it caused me to see the world very differently.

Of course when pursued to the letter it is deemed as being defacing many causes but ignoring the issues is tantamount to the derogation of duty. Mind you Hillary, my dearly beloved Hillary, who continues to take pot shots at good ol' Obama on any issue except the ones that matter has made her case for attempting to hold the love of the people at ransom. Although depending on which side of that infamous table you are found again...