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Thursday, January 5, 2012

In a den of thieves continued.

Likewise in the society there was a clear demarcation of it's own acquired schizophrenia, with two worlds living parallel to each other; on the the one hand there was the rich who lorded it over the poor with a despotic profligacy, and on the other there was the lot of the dispossessed who feigned a servile posture while the hatred of their situation simmered as an unquenchable fire in their souls waiting for the right moment to erupt.  Like an active volcano the people waited for the right moment, for it was no longer a matter of if, no it was a matter of when.  For life was quickly becoming so unbearable, that death was no longer feared but even anticipated as a welcome end to the life of turmoil and strife.  For in death, the soul could sleep in the night without fears, and there catch up on the long nights  of lost sleep due to terror.  For in death, the body plagued by sickness for which a cure was unaffordable due to prevailing circumstances, there it could rest peacefully, and without pain.   what a tragedy, that a people who had set off on a journey of optimistic independence from colonialism should  come to a screeching halt and meet their Waterloo in the quagmire of the Presidency at Aso rock.  Where the President of Goodluck, operated as a rudderless boat in a manner which could only have rivalled the infamous and insignificant presidencies of his predeccessors.  The public could rest assured of one thing only, and that was that it's leadership would continue to entertain the world with it's blatant mediocrity and total absence of imaginativeness which was near comic in it's utter deatchment from the reality of the people.  In effect, the president presented himself as a buffoon who had strong inclinations to jetting around the world in a jet ( whose purchase was misguided) attending international meetings to which he could contribute little or not at all, thereby reiterating to the world at large his own irrelevance.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

in a den of thieves continued

Indeed, there was nothing to accuse him of safe of being a reject of society, a fact for which he could not really be held responsible for himself; for he was little more than an angry product of the very society which condemned him to a life of crime and intrigues by virtue of the inherent corrpution upon which it was based, a corruption which denied the rights of the common man in every way imaginable. In its inconsistencies it created a veritable maze of suppressive regulations, and demonstrated that it could only be relied upon to further deface the image of the common man, and dehumanise him to the level of an unwanted creature, or byproduct of creation.  In this society,the common man rubbed shoulders with the rats of the slimy gutters the only difference being that the rats were fat and well fed on the refuse that accumulated unhindered, whilst the men became leaner with barely any extra flesh to spare on their bones.
" tell me Father, tell me, am I sinner to steal?"
For in his mind there existed two parallel reailties which were irreconcileable: in his soul he was still the mild and gentle christian who believed in the resurrection of the dead, and he believed that Jesus was his personal saviour, but he was a robber at night, and he was successful in his trade.  Like a schizophrenic he lived two lives and whilst in either life he faced that wholeheartedly and refused to consider the other