…another angry German in the beer hall.

This letter passed across my desk, speaking so strongly that, despite its barking manner it begged to be read. And because this is the people I vow to express this voice no matter how asinine,* with that said, I  present this an open letter from, Comrade Ogilvy.

Tall people, what is their use? Has nature made a more accursed creature? They wish to be recognized and admired for their stature but it is this very thing that sickens me Bahamas. You’ve seen them walking among us, as though they are equal to us, but if you look carefully you’ll notice that none of them can look the average Bahamian eye to eye.  For some time now we have been silent on the issue that is the source of all of our great nation’s ills, but my beloved Bahamians, silence will take us nowhere but further down the road of destruction. In the words of Edmund Burke, “all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”

Think for a moment how much capital is wasted on these giants, that could have gone towards the average Bahamian. How many yards of cloth was wasted to create their basket ball jerseys? How many animals were slaughtered to provide enough leather to cover their size 14 shoes? How many trees cut down in their prime to provide extra wood to prevent them from bucking their overextended heads against the doorways of the righteous?  Are our doorways not high enough for you to avoid thumping your nose against it? These giants perpetuate a culture of excess and indulgence; a life style of waste and greed.

Tall people are undermining our society, using our precious few resources. How it often aches my heart to see a good Bahamian child turn away from education or health care services simply because one of these tall wretches has taken the seat meant for our children.  I challenge you Bahamas, name one person over 6’2 who has ever done anything substantial or productive towards the well being of the country? You can’t, because it has never happened. It is not within their nature, we are beneath them. 

Oh what a proud and arrogant vestigial race that evolution has wrought.

Too many of our children have began to accept these monsters as their own, as though the difference of four inches is no more offensive than a gradation of skin color, but I will not have those liberal surfactants and universal suffragists deceive you my Bahamian brothers. So what if they were born here, grew up here, speak our language, worship in our churches, pledge allegiance to our flag… as long as there is an “us” and “them” there will never be true harmony.  They are an unnatural abomination that, as I have already stated, is  debauched with no hope of redemption, there is only one response that we can take as proud patriots of this fair Bahama land. 

Root these sky scrapping, bean pole, girl stealing, monstrosities up and out of our country, or send them to an appropriate hard labor camp where they can be re-educated and reformed from their beastly manner.

Open your eyes Bahamians before it’s too late. These giants are looking down on us.

...Because The Government Doesn't Know What They're Doing; or The Mech Solution

It has become apparent that Tourism in its present state, will not sustain us forever. Everyone in the Caribbean can offer sun, sand, sea, and smiles, some even better than us, but we as Bahamians are not quitters. Sure traditional tourism is failing, perhaps then it is time for us to expand our reach, and invest in other industries that could save us from economic disaster. A lot of people speak about returning to agriculture and fisheries, and while that is all fine and dandy, I am proposing brand new initiatives that will push the Bahamas into the 22^nd century. The Bahamas is a Small Island State, but that is no reason for us to dream small. Japan is also an island state, and look how advance they are. What is stopping us from being as great as the Japanese? As Bahamians what do we have that is our most precious resource outside of Bamboo Shack and Stevie S? 

Ingenuity. 

The Bahamian people are ingenuiteous, and through our ingenuitiabilities we have weathered many storms.  Case and point the invention of ‘chicken in the bag’.*

While sitting in the computer lab waiting to print out my 215 page Super Sentai  fan fiction, this very thought crossed my mind. So what is it that separates us from being as great as the Japanese?

Giant Fighting Robots.

We need to involve ourselves in “Mech Warrior Tourism” it is as simple as that. What other country has 60 foot tall robots running around destroying each other? None. We would be a first, and according to my research, Mech-Tourism is a $5 Million a year industry. Shouldn’t we be getting a part of that delicious robot pie? There are pundits out there who would suggest that we need to leave tourism alone and they offer the adage “you’re beating a dead horse” but to them I offer another  maxim, from the quill of the great Greek  Philosopher, Epeius, when speaking to the Trojans “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth”. And if we are beating this horse, as they say, let us continue, perhaps it is not a dead horse, but in fact a piñata, and then who shall be laughing as we feast on the sweet, delicious innards that our industry will offer up to us.

*In the early 1900’s on the island of Acklins there was a chicken farm that was half a mile from a Mazola corn oil factory, one day an accident at the oil factory resulted in an explosion that sent gallons of hot oil rushing towards the chicken farm. While no humans were injured in the ordeal, there was the vexing problem of what to do with the scores of delicious fried chicken carcasses that littered the Acklins’ streets. Luckily a  young man, who happen to be the manager of small wax and brown paper bag factory came up with the solution to drench the departed fowl in ketchup and wrap it in his product and sell it to Nassuvians, who by his estimation would eat just about anything.  Well the rest is history and today we have a thriving fast-food and renal clinic industry in Nassau.

Even the advice i give my lil sister ain't free...

If someone is to be slapped it should be niggas. 

I'm not saying that because I'm a closet feminist, I'm saying that because I'm a closet racist. But seriously,  think about it, women get nothing out of getting slapped, (except the rights to a Lifetime movie and a guest appearance on Tyra Banks show where they can sit on a panel and plead with Riahnna to leave Chris Brown...or is that just reruns.)

...let me tell you what guys get when they get slapped, they  get a pat on the back. The man that has been slapped,(and I am talking about the Bahamian hyperbole, "head flicken tear off" slap), will live forever in infamy as the dude who get he head flicken tear off and just walk off like it ain happen. 

Don't let it be a gal who slap him.

If  a gal slap a nigga and he just look at her and all he do is  "sigh" and  shake he head dejected then walk off, that nigga set for life. 

Who can deny his manliness? 

This is part of the reason that I have high blood pressure and put so much salt in my food now. I have had the taste slapped out of my mouth so many times, by so many girls that I am now immune to the taste of Bamboo Shack. No effect on me.

At first it was just a misunderstanding, but now its a vicious cycle. One gal slap me thinking i was her boyfriend. When I tell the next gal how my face get swell so, she slap me for cheating on her, and so on and so on, till I don't really have to tell the story anymore they just is tear my head off cus they see the other gal do it. 

The more woman that slap me, the sexier I get to rest of the woman, (because women are inherently violent) now everyone want...

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The Life and Times of the Venerable Schin Nguyen: Lord High Chancellor of the Emerald Isles

People have often accused me of being narcissistic but history will no doubt vindicate me, because I’m awesome. Some day my supposed arrogance will be revealed as a misunderstanding of greatness before its time. Time is of course too slow and inefficient, and because I refuse to go the way of Van Gough and Mussolini I will not have some casual observer/historian write any biography of me unaided, so I have began to write my own obituary so that the true story will be told when the time comes. Think of it as a blue print for you to live your life by; something to aspire to.

Thought of by many as the 16^th reincarnation of Buddha, it was the quiet morning of January 5^th 1987 when in the laboratory of Nobel Prize winners, Barak Obama and Oprah Winfrey, Schin Nguyen was born. At his birth, the cries of the baby shattered all of the glass in the building, inadvertently killing all of the other test tube babies; at that moment Barak and Oprah knew their experiment had been a success.

This young baby, who lay in a halo of broken glass, was no ordinary infant. He had been genetically engineered to be perhaps the greatest human/dolphin ever. His superior abilities came as a result of drawing from various great men in history.  The deep, soulful baritone of Barry White, the rugged good looks of George Clooney, the virility and stamina of John F. Kennedy, the alcohol tolerance of Ted Kennedy, laser vision from Superman and Mahatma Gandhi’s levitating powers. Many thought the ability to fly was over kill, but  Oprah had the foresight to give the baby the I.Q. of  Albert Einstein to keep the child humble.

At two days old, the boy child uttered his first word, “interpolation” after which he wrote a 64 page dissertation on the eminent crash of the stock and housing market 20 years prior to its occurrence. At the age of five, Schin created the Macintosh Computer Company as a social experiment, not only did he fabricate almost 15 years of back story, he set about, proving that with proper marketing you could make the masses think anything is ‘cool’ . After teaching TuPac Shakur how to rap, the young Schin would build a time machine with which he would travel to the 1500’s spending 7 years as English writer and spy, Christopher Marlowe, and in his spare time invented and refined the myth of Shakespeare.

It was upon his return to the 20^th Century that he met with his first wife, Halle Berry. The two fell madly in love with each other almost instantaneously. Halle Berry wanted to consummate their love the day of their meeting, but being the upstanding man of high moral fiber that he was, Schin begged her not to ravage him without committing to the sacred bonds of marriage. Sadly because he had the wickedest slam, Halle Berry’s mind was exploded, that is literally blown, leaving her with no memory of her short lived romance.

At the lost of the woman he loved Schin sank into a state of depression, from which he barely rebounded in time to save the world from Y2K.

to be continued...