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Monday, April 19, 2021
Home Features Please to leave the queen alone

Please to leave the queen alone

Last week on the Krem WuB, Brother JC engaged Brother Nuri on the topic of the removal of the Queen, our highly respected and beloved Queen E, as head of state of Belize. I’m not that familiar with Brother Nuri being in league with this local gang that insists that our keeping Queen E as head of state, and having her surrogate, our respected GG, stymies the growth of our country, but I’m not surprised. I won’t rack my brain; I’ll just stick to judging a heart by the company it keeps, and Brother Nuri is not an enemy of the anti-Queen gang, which includes Bill Lindo, Patrick Rogers, and JC.

They, our local philistines, also want the faces of our own people on our currency. Now, we know that our leaders have failed us, miserably, and the excuse the gang gives for them failing is that they swore allegiance to the monarchy. Well, excuses hell, why do we want to put failed faces on our money? Your bet is the same as mine. Really, I’m very surprised at JC! Ai, the faces we favor to put on the currency are those of the very same people who swore allegiance to the Queen, and then messed up.

I say, the difference between a rank-and-file person like me, and these big people, is that I know when I’m caught. They don’t. Now, allow me to further expose the architects of this waste-a-time argument.

Swearing allegiance to the Queen didn’t make us roll over before Lord Ashcroft; it was our failure to know who are our friends, and who aren’t. If the PUPs were sincere, and if they had listened to Sparrow sing about British diplomacy (…if yu girlfriend noh got no common sense, without a cent he’s [the British man] going to penetrate her defense…), Lord Ashcroft would not have been able to take us for taffi.

The British have had great success over the years with these select knights we know as privateers, and walking in the footsteps of the legends, such as Walter Raleigh, is our double bank owner, Lord Ashcroft.

If the PUP were a ship they would have sailed into the lair with their white flag up, and the UDP, if they were a ship…you know, we really have to talk about that crowd’s most recent former leader, and by way of getting there, aha, let’s look at the privateer, when he pulled out the telescope and selected his prey.

He did not hold us up with a gun to get BTL, and all the other good things that were “conduit-ed” to him. He looked at Queen’s Square, saw two very ambitious brothers, and he became close friends with one and made the other his lawyer. If you’re full of hate, call it sheer luck; if not, call it a brilliant gamble, because the close friend was loved by a prime minister, and in that way he got into the saddle for 10 years, from 1998 to 2008, and through the lawyer, seemingly, he later got control of everything in our country — lock, stock, and barrel — for another 13 wapping years, 2008 to 2020. Some say tick tock tick tock, the years are still counting.

Ah, Mr. Barrow, he was in glee when he got his turn to serve, because he is from National Party (NP) stock, his paternal grampa, Ebeneezer, actually being a founder of that party.

You do know about the NP… to pin the tail on the donkey it is necessary we split the NIP to make things more clear. The National Independence Party (NIP) is the amalgamation of two parties, the pro-monarchy NP and the pro-independence Honduran Independence Party (HIP), founded by Leigh Richardson, Philip Goldson, and their crowd.

The HIPs didn’t want any kind of liaison with Guatemala, and they didn’t want to remain a colony either. They weren’t in bed with the NP for money; they were sleeping with them because they had to stop Price and Company in their game, and they did, they did; they pressed those bohgaz until dehn geh the sense. A reformed, inspired Price would later stand before the world and shout, oh glory, not a square centimeter! That, my colegas, is when he became the Father of the Nation!

A little aside, not too far away: I saw in Lawrence Vernon’s A Narrative of Political Parties in Belize, a note on the 1956 Belize City Council elections that mentions my late maternal uncle, Roy Belisle (RB), as a member of the losing NP ticket. Years ago RB told me that he had run in an election, our second after adult suffrage, because one of the slates was short-a-candidates.

RB was a natural for the NP, because his mom was a Lindo. I’ll say it again that Belize should adopt the Spanish practice of affixing the mother’s maiden name to their children, so the apellido identifies more of the stock you come from. In an improved naming system, RB would have been RBL, Roy Belisle-Lindo, and Dean Barrow would have been, DBL, the L synonymous with NP stock.

This obsession with separating us from the Queen goes as far back as George Price, and Philip Goldson. Yes, Goldson too. After he linked up Richardson and his HIP with Buntin Fuller’s pro-Queen NP, Goldson, because of the law that says politics makes strange bedfellows, had to cool down on the monarchy.

A few years prior to the marriage, he, Goldson, got on a bicycle and rode to the house of Charles B. Hyde, to express his displeasure about Hyde signing H. W. Beaumont’s petition that a picture of the king be returned to its rightful place in City Hall. The cornered Hyde has said, in his defense, that while he 100% supported the revolution, there was no way he could deny his mentor, Mr. Beaumont, who had a monarchy fetish.

Ah, we all know why Father George would make that big tack from the course he was on, but what I have to complain about there is for the past, and the future, not today —because there’s too much on the present plate already, plenty, which we’ll also have to forego, because some things have to be said about an American mermaid that is out of her water. Ooh, ever since they got the bomb, those Americanos have been nothing but trouble.

Tell Miss Markle and Oprah to back off from the Queen

Space, space, space, I’ll have to ask the Amandala for more ink and paper, because I have a full page of complaints about these female gangsters, Miss Markle and Miss Oprah, who smeared the Queen. Just when you thought you’d heard it all, here comes someone getting upset because an idiot or antiquated person at the palace wondered about the color of their baby.

Por Dios, of course someone at the palace, and someone in the US, and someone in Belize too, would wonder where the baby’s dimple will be.

I can see in my mind’s eye the pseudo-sincere faces, hear the pseudo-sincere voices – there might have been some choking up – hic, hic – tears, yes, for poor Miss Markle suffering because somebody worried about the kala a the baby. Boohoo, they didn’t like my baby because she, or is the child a he, has a tan. It’s the Queen, she’s the one, wicked woman – hmm, you think we can break up the Commonwealth over this?

I congratulate the Queen for trying so hard with the young American lady. Sure, there are a few idiots at the palace, but God made them too, just like He made Miss Markle’s dad who couldn’t give breathing room to his daughter, a show girl from a former British colony, while she played at royalty.

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