Give way! PNMDemons at work.

This is inspired by an unrelated email circulating the Net.

Every road user knows what this sign means, ent?

Not that long ago, in the days which, somehow, to many seem as misty as yore, One Manning's heartbeat became so blatant by our dollars that his heavy hand reverberated throughout the land, forcing every non-PNM person (human) to eat PNM's humble-pie, else eat dirt to survive. Remember? I do -for I broke a tooth chewing on a handful of melajo and still have grit stuck in my craw.

Thus it was for eight-and-a-half years, as we humans were forced to dine on dirt, while the PNM crowd feasted themselves to their hart's content. All the while, we humans seemed totally confused -we couldn't marshal our forces into one, though we experimented with gusto...with every conceivable metal too...someone even tried to to refashion what they thought was a duncey dalliance into a party hat made of copper. Remember? I do -I still have the memorabilia to show as proof.

Then came the First Tsunami, triggered by a deft piece of tectonic-plate rattling put down by a Gypsy, a Badgering-Ram, a Jackhammer and a namesake of mine. Remember that too? It was a tsunami reminiscent of the one the older heads used to describe had happened when Dr. Eric Williams entered the local political fray -sensing swiftly shifting sands, lickety-split he let down his bucket and, within two shakes of a duck's tail, he beat back a fragmented opposition in the race to become ruler of the land. That one I don't remember -I was a toddler then- nonetheless, as a topper-topper student of Caribbean history and Net surfer, I could rattle off the details with certified accuracy...but not now, later.

The First Tsunami is also like the ancient one, in that, within months of it happening, it resurrected, as if with...ahm...supernatural power, to overwhelm the land -except for Laventille and similar diehard outposts- like a true-true lavasse at times does to Port-au-Prince...or like how this next "Give Way" sign got his:

Now! Before you start asking, "Like RWT eh take he pills, or what? Cause, we're lost as to where he going with this discourse!", let me right-away delve into it, for what I want to ask is this:

We heading for the second anniversary. Whither, fellow human?

I see you're dumbstruck, so allow me to answer my stoopid question, okay?

Shortly after receiving a sound flogging, the Evil Master called a special convention of his demons. The venue was in a brand new auditorium, a snappily-bedecked one. As to the summoned, they came from the East, they came from the West! They came from the North, they came from the South! They came in all shapes and sizes too. Some grumbled (they were on their way to the airport to catch a flight to Panama, when they got the beep via Blackberry). Some mumbled (these were part of a Chinese delegation, so no local mediasphere nightowl covering the event could decipher what they were saying...except when one of them said "No see Hart?"). Others just sulked (of the lot, these made up the bulk).

In a huff and a puff, at the appointed hour (stroke of midnight, d'oh!) Il Capo swept his way onto the stage, mooned the audience (that's how demons greet) and, satisfied all eyes were upon him, swished over to the lectern to deliver his urgent spiel. A hush fell over the motley audience, if not prompted by the raising of his hand, then from what he spat out immediately on opening his speech.
"Comrades!" The Underworld Boss proclaimed, in shrill, blood-curdling a-la-rohj-ay tone, "I've summoned you here to discuss a matter of grave import, which, if not addressed, will mean Doomsday for us! This year, it's war, as never before!"

The audience stillness pervaded to such depths, one could hear precisely where a pin would drop were one to drop on the U$1,500.00 per sq. metre plush carpet floor, or a cock stretch and flap on the branch of the Silk Cotton tree near the Courthouse 2 km away.

The Villain Of The Piece continued, "Comrades! It is alleged the world's human population now numbers seven billion! And it's climbing fast! At the present rate, comrades, by the next All Souls' Night (and for the first time in our history), humans would outnumber demons! That means they could turn the tides on us -for, in numbers, there is strength and, as you all know, try as we might...and Lord knows we've tried... since the Dawn of Time we've neither been able to stop the God-fearing attending congregational worship, nor from reading their Scriptures in search of The Truth."

"How did we allow this to creep up upon us, comrades? And, is there a solution to the untenable situation? I say, yes! But, for you to understand, let me quickly identify the reason why we have not been able to take complete charge of the humans: We have been thinking inside the box for too long!"

"My beloved demons, how could I, the great deceiver, have been so led astray? We need to shift paradigms! The old way won't work! The question is, "How?"

"Well, I've done the homework and I have called you here today to tell you that all we need to do is focus on keeping the humans from forming an intimate relationship with The Boss Of Us All. Yall know once they gain that connection, our power over them is lost forever, ent?"

"So! How do we do that? How do we break that link?"

"Well, my take on it is, we let them go to their places of meeting, if they want...let them have all the Law Books that they want..but, make sure to steal their time! Minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, you must distract them from gaining hold of The Real Issues and maintaining That Vital Connection so necessary for their ascendancy! Once you do that, they won't have time to develop a healthy relationship among themselves, far less for with The People, Who Is The Real Boss!"
"How does Il Nostro Capo expect us to do this?" his demons whispered to each other, as demons do, "The humans are so preoccupied with their electronic gadgets these days it's hard to get them to focus on anything serous!"
"Bingo! You've hit the nail on the head!" interrupted The Midnight Robber (he'd read their minds, as he well can do, they being crapos, after all), "If you bear with me I'll explain."

"We'll use their own whips to flog them into submission, as follows:

"Keep them busy in the non-essentials of life by inventing innumerable insidious schemes to occupy their minds! Tempt them to spend, spend, spend...and borrow, borrow, borrow to pay for the things on which they spend! Persuade wives and husbands, especially who have children of school age, to go to work for long hours...7 days each week preferably...12-16 hours a day -8 on the job, 6 commuting...so they can afford the empty lifestyle called La Dolce Vita! in other words, keep them from spending quality time with their gullible children. The added sweetener for us would be that as an institution, the human family would fragment and collapse, for quickly not a single human 'home' will be able to offer any escape from the pressures of work!"

"Also, over-stimulate their minds so that they cannot hear the Small Voices anymore and instead preoccupy themselves with maintaining and strengthening the status quo. Sway them away from wholesome planning and implementation by drowning them in the greasy, salty pipedreams we left behind, none one of which, try as they might, they would be able to commission!

Entice them to have only diatribe and lewdness jamming on their radios or I-Pods, to keep their TVs, DVD/CD players and PCs going constantly in every home, office or car, every office, store, taxi and restaurant, morning, noon and night! Pummel their minds with reality shows and negative and socially-divisive news 24-oh-7! (Even when in serious lockdown, Trini main pastime is party, wine and jam, doh forget!")

"So, as I was saying, disturb their focus by flooding the airwaves and Internet with doltishness, junk mail, dumbed-down fora 'discussions' that peddle lies, innuendo, false hopes and viruses of the virtual and real-life sort."

"In their official pronouncements, appointments and events, encourage them to give prominence to just-comers and soon they'll become dissatisfied with one another and the trailblazers will become overwrought by migraine!"
"You see, comrades, this year, it's war! But of a different kind! Tactics, comrades! Tactics is what will win this war for us! Once we get partners not to give each other the love and respect they need, they will soon begin to look elsewhere. That will flounder their 'ship' more quickly than you could say 'Jackson'!"

"Also, even when they take a timeout for their own recreation, let them be excessive rather than introspective, for Father Time has long told us that constant introspection is the only means whereby they could absorb energy necessary for renewal of franchise...at very minimal cost too. In other words, my lowlife Comrades, the key to our victory over the aspiring humans lies in us keeping them busy doing idle things!

"Remember, it's they who came up with the notion 'The Devil find work for idle hands', so, let's turn it to our advantage, shall we?"

At this, every demon turned to each other nodded in agreement.

Jab took a sip of hot water, then continued, "And if perchance there be humans who do meet for spiritual fellowship, disguise yourselves and sit in their midst to involve them in gossip and irrelevant talk, so that they leave with consciences more muddled than before."

"Oh! And don't forget this one! Crowd their lives with so many good causes they have no time to seek Power from The Real Force. Soon they will be working in their own strength, sacrificing their health and family 'for the good of the cause'."

"I'm telling you, my fellow Despicable-angels, my scheme will work! It will work! Well? Don't I deserve a round of applause?"

The demons went into a frenzy -everyone was eager to take on their old assignments with the new twist. The techno-savvy of the lot eagerly tweeted of it (there were hundreds of demons on guard duty in Hades, thus couldn't attend in person, but were following proceedings by realtime online stream).

EPILOGUE
As to whether and how well the plan is working, you be the judge. All I know is, back then, when the tsunami swept across the landscape, the mood of all humans towards the PNM was signalled loud and clear:

But, nowadays, the waters having sufficiently subsided to afford a reasonable view of the changes, it's kind of alarming -downcouraging too- to see so many itinerant appointees of the former regime still running the routes.

If something's not done soon, soon even the most placid humans will start saying "PP" means nothing more than "Patrick's People", for every time we humans try to cash in some of our chips, we must:

How else to explain the heavy and heavy-handed Baleezay presence, except by saying it appears that while we weren't looking, the demons have not only mastered the underground, but, as the tsunami wanes, everything underwater too?