Educated nice people, assholes and bull dogma
I was once a very nice, always showing my teeth, Jamaican...
but my fear of dogma caused my downfall.
At first I didn't realize that the fear had cancelled me from niceness and turned me into an asshole.
But after taking note it finally hit me that people were now indeed always saying, “You're such an asshole”
And of course... I had to finally accept that so many people couldn't be wrong.
There's no need for nice people to ever consider if they are sometimes not so nice... nice people...
because they already know they are nice people...
plus friends and strangers alike, are always saying, " Oh, God bless your heart... you're such a nice person".
Anyhow... being an asshole is a lonely existence so we assholes have more free time than nice people.
I
don’t know 'bout them assholes but I try to use my free time to watch nice folks in hopes of re-learning niceness.
I'm aware I have to play the cards I'm dealt… but I also believe it is an asshole's right to say to the other players, even if they are all nice people, “Dogma brains, don’t you see that the damn deck is rigged.
“Who let this asshole up in here?... what is a dogma anyways…?”
“Click on it you nice fool!"
"Officer... hello officer... can you please get this trouble making asshole outa here… this is a nice place for "NICE PEOPLE ONLY!”
I remember seeing a fellow, but nice, slave brother cut up his race card when we heard that the first black man in history had become boss of the slave plantation.
He shouted to me in jubilant bliss, “Hey asshole why aren’t you celebrating?”
"Boss could very well be a nice guy but are you blind... look who's behind him looking over his shoulder at us”.
“You're just an asshole, you party pooper... It's black assholes like you why it took so long for one of us to sleep in the master bedroom of master's big white house..."
For over 80 years the Jamaican Rastafari movement has been 
against plantation poly tricks
yet,
just by putting a black boss in master's chair... nice Rastafarian Coco Tea immediately switched sides.
He even produced a Rasta reggae song celebrating Babylon...
My ancestor said Bob Marley turned in his grave.
It's as if the spirit told slaves that the boss was a gift from heaven while inspiring the Glen Becks, NRAs, nice Kay Kay Kay evangelical indentured servants that boss is the Muslim anti-Christ from hell who is not Christian enough, like George Bush... to run a “freedom of religion” plantation.
A nice Christian pastor from the south eastern tip of the plantation was planning the radical act of burning Korans because he believes Muslims are radical.
I saw some nice educated slave people marching in the financial district protesting the ground zero Mosque.
As they walked pass Citigroup, Goldman Sachs, JP Morgan... the stock market...
heading over to ground zero to protest a mosque... in freedom of religion... I dropped to my knee with my hands held high asking God why am I so blind and unlucky that I cannot see what nice people see.
I have to go now... got to go get some rest...
believe me it's exhausting being an asshole trying to make sense of nice folks...
"The Major" asshole!
Poor yawdy and the bullshit in Jamaica
The world is so full of bullshit that those who are anti-bullshit are made villains.
It’s the way things work…
And it has been this way so long that bullshit is the norm.
Bullshit certainly wasn’t created in Jamaica… but we love it more than our own shit…
we even help to promote bullshit around the world.
It is not by choice…
we are trained receptors and propagators of bull.
Our politicians are professional bullshitters.
But they’ve learned from the best.
It is unfortunate that there are so many black babies in Jamaica living in poverty without love of family or country,
without nurture or the basic needs of survival. And though even bullshitters sympathize with their condition,
in time,
with no love or intercession from any man
politician, teacha to preacha man…
these poor Yawdy children grow up to be dispossessed, hungry and uneducated bullshit minded poor Yawdy teenage fathers and mothers of our next generation of poor Yawdy.
Some of their actions are often deserving of little sympathy. And in bullshit they get none.
Work as police and soldier are reserved for poor Yawdy who passed a few CXC subjects and are looking work with steady pay, even if it means risking early death.
Some would 
have gone further… but without tuition, it’s either or I da!... so they end up becoming the strong arm, enforcers and defenders of bullshit on Jamrock.
As our representative to the Queen, Governor General Sir Patrick Allen, ON, GCMG, CD
“Order of Nation”
“Grand Cross of the Order of St Michael and St George”
"Order of Distinction"
gave the OK
"Order of the King"
to the State of Emergency in the US drug war being fought on Jamaican soil, I am reminded of the depth of the bullshit..
Poor Yawdy against poor Yawdy massacring poor Yawdy and burying poor Yawdy without impartial eyes to verify count or identity…
So many “gunmen gone… so little guns to match.
It is cheaper to kill than to help.
So in bullshit, those who need help most, die most
The stories may be varied, famine, aids epidemic, refugees, war on drugs, cold war, imperialism, capitalism, political tribalism, globalization, wealth found in the soil under their feet, the extradition of Dudus…
Niggers die!
Because niggers are expendable in bullshit
Even though Jamaica has the most churches per square mile we have the most deaths per capita
Churches in bullshit benefit only the heads and their families.
A church doesn’t grow because of any other blessing other than that which comes through the collection plate… and the poor Yawdy giving has nothing to get.
There are never any real efforts to punish the true perpetrators of the most heinous crimes in bullshit and the aim of bullshit media is not the truth, but excitement, propaganda, marketing and psychological mind games which benefit bullshiters.
“Hey Bruce… you say it is the recession caused by bankers in the US, that is causing so many hungry poor Yawdy to suffer and die.
Why don’t you extradite and try them on Jamrock?
"Oh sorry, I forgot... we don't imprison or kill them and bury their bodies without notification of families...
we bail them out with billions of dollars!"
I'm sorry... please forgive...
The ignorant Major
Never make someone a priority when you are only an option
If you were once the “PRIORITY” not giving a damn while your “OPTION” for love was hurting over you…
and now, for whatever reason, the tables have turned…
Welcome to hell!
Image the mind of a broken heart… alone in misery, not able to concentrate because it is filled with thoughts of you.
And now… that broken heart has been mended
the mind has re-settled...
priorities re-shuffled and re-structured…
causing a re-institution of the glow that once softened and warmed your cold heart.
At first you failed to notice… but soon began noticing that others were noticing something.
Then you began to notice!
You also noticed that the power you once wielded recklessly has been stifled.
At first you deny the change
Then anger started setting in as you began to see that the change is so real you can touch it.
You try bargaining…
but there are no buyers
Your new weakness and rush of emotions makes you even less appealing.
Your 'option" might have even forgiven you...
but will never forget nor have sympathy on yo' ass
As a matter of fact… you're pathetic"ness" may have even become appealing.
THE POWER OF MONEY
If yo' money is right… you have a good chance at being able to buy out the situation…
Yo’ money might even have the power to re-turn the table.
But if yo’ money ain’t right…
yet your new found weakness causes you to try and buy back your new priority, even though you were already facing financial difficulties... but you have decided to press forward in faith that your God can do all things...
Welcome to the deepest pit of hell
Because you just can not make someone a priority…
now
that
you
have
become
only
an
OPTION.
The Major
Solomon was truly a king genius
Solomon had 700 wives plus another 300 sweethearts on the side
but this is not the reason I’ve decided to make him my role model.
He was a man of God and also the wisest ever.
So it is a matter of commonsense.
Fi real… it requires wealth to have and support lots of women so it's actually a waste of time dreaming the impossible with shallow holy pockets.
Not even deep pockets could maintain Solomon's ladies... because no matter how deep pockets are, the money in it can be counted after you get home and way before an early retirement to bed…
and if you can count yo’ money… you have no money…
or at best… toddler money... which, more than likely, will never mature.
Solomon had mature money… if he was living today, his money would be 12 digits on a Swiss bank’s hard drive.
That’s uncountable money
Sorta like Bill…
…except Bill's money is new money with turbo.
You couldn't count his money if you were legally given the job and the keys thru Bill’s Gates.
Anyway, money is not my reason for making Big Sol my role model.
I try to listen to old folk who ain’t talking obvious dumb shit… and all who I've listened to say only fools keep nuff woman... so it has always puzzled my brain why the wisest man had so many—‘til it recently hit me on the head like Newton’s apple.
Solomon knew he could only spend quality time with 365 of his women in a year, so he kept 1000 because intellectually the mastermind knew if he saw one of his girls today who was bugging ova sum PMS mental disorder shit... in the morning when he yells next, he wouldn’t be seeing that one again until her turn comes back around in 2 ½ years...
SOLOMON WAS TRULY A fuc KING GENIUS!
...and his security guards were all willing to work 24 hour shifts for (fuc)king peanuts.
The (fuc) king Major
HEEELP! The devil is in my head.
In my quest to find a better me, last Sunday, I shouldered the jacket of my 3 piece and went to church.
Upon entering the building I noticed the many fans and the devil immediately entered my head.
“If yuh whaa wear 3 piece... you need a church with central air… I don't know who look foola, di one wearing a jacket without A/C or di one carrying it”
I decided not to pay him any mind because I was hoping to be heated up by God and not to be cooled off by man.
“Al'dho... yuh might as well get used to heat”, whispered Satan
"Get used to heat fi wha?... I will be in heaven with my Lord, you devil", answered I.
I would’ve felt more welcomed if they hadn’t made such a big deal welcoming me. They actually made me uncomfortable... especially when Sister Alecia joined the welcoming party. She reminded me of Ayingi, and the devil immediately entered my mind.
To get him out, I smiled, shook her silky outstretched hand, “The Major…yes… nice to meet you too", and immediately turned back to face Sister Ida Hilda, who physically was not at all sinful.
The sermon started well. “Job loved God more than money”
Pastor reminded us that Job wasn’t thinking about money... because he loved God completely. Hallelujah!
“Since we know pastor is thinking ‘bout his collection, it’s safe to say… he doesn’t love God completely, nuh true?”
Get behind me Satan, I rebuked in my head.
“Job loved God more than money… because the love of money is the root of all evil!” said the preacher. “He knows God feeds the hungry, heals the sick, the blind, the crippled and the maimed”
"On which planet?" evil said.
I didn’t realize how sinful I was.
The entire church was going crazy praising the Lord shouting Hallelujah, Yes Jesus and thank you Lord… yet here I was counting the seconds til the fan came back around, thinking about money to pay Brother Bill and trying not to eye Sister Alecia with the devil in my head.
“Yuh betta pray yuh nuh get sick… because if you were to get sick without good money yuh betta give yuh soul to good God, curl up, kiss yuh good ass good bye and give thanks that you do have good God so you won't be thrown into everlasting fire with me on the day of revenge when the trumpet shall sound and the rocks begin to say, “You can’t hide in me ‘cause mi a look a place fi hide mi-self… and the graves say “Wake up wake up, let go your rotten c**ks and put on your rotten socks… wake up wake up and put on your rotten dress, try to look your rotten best… wake up wake up I say… Today is Earth’s Court day!
“I’m not listening to you, you devil”, I said in my head while trying to concentrate on what the pastor was saying.
“1 John 4:8 says, whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love... Amen”.
Sister Ida Hilda, stomping up the isle, yelled, “Tell us what love is, pastor”
“1 Corinthians 13:4 says… Love is patient, love is kind, it does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud, it is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs... hallelujah... amen”
And the devil yelled in my head, “That’s a lie!... love does keep records of wrongs… He keeps it in the book of life”. I was very anger at Satan and my outrage caused me to unconsciously yell out aloud, “God cannot lie!”
The pastor looked at me and said, “No he cannot young man because he is truth, love and righteousness… I know he is speaking to you right now… LISTEN TO HIM… I SAID LISTEN TO HIM!” and the church went wild but I wanted to scream out “NOOO! HELP ME PASTOR… IT IS THE DEVIL IN MY HEAD!
Satan knows the bible because he said, “Revelation 20:12 says, And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life. The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books”, but I was concentrating on the preacher man
“Yuh better fear God… ‘cause He is a Jealous God… halleluiah!, shouted the pastor.
“Fear love?... and who is He jealous of?...
Man?
... It can’t be… why would he be jealous of his creation… He created both you and me… but since I’m the only one in his realm… it has to be mee… I can never understand why he’s jealous of me… I can’t blow breath into man, I can’t create heaven and earth… I do nothing but evil and wickedness… plus I live in a tormenting hole in the ground...what the hell is he jealous of?
Get behind me Satan, I demanded trying hard to get the devil out of my head, but he continued ranting, “Those who gave you God didn't have a damn thing to offer you but whips, chains and hard labor. Not even his language was freely given. He cherished his child, but sold yours for mo’ money. Yet you believe he loves you so much that he gave you the best he had…
he gave you his God… while he took all your money… What do you think… do you believe he loves you so much that he wanted to keep you safely away from money because you might fall in love with it and be filled with even more evil? ….........
and about Sister Alecia, you can never have a woman like that...
Because you have no money!
and Ayingi, she did leave you because you are an asshole... but she would have stayed with you if you had mo' money!”.
HEEEEEEEEELP! THE DEVIL IS IN MY HEAD!
Please pray for me…PLEEEASE!
The Major
Buju saw the cheese but not the trap
Yes Buju was set up
Yep, it probably was entrapment
"But none a that shit don't matter"
Most solid drug cases are done exactly this way
Since the individual who set him up was paid US $35,000, the feds most likely have a solid case against him.
And when I say solid, I mean phone tap recordings, body wire recordings and videos with audio recordings.
How the hell can anyone beat that.
It’s hard to beat!
If you fight it on grounds of entrapment, it will be almost impossible to win. You might as well do what the system is set up to do--just give the lawyer his chunk, plead guilty so the prison guard will have a job, the government can take yuh shit and the prison investors can laugh all the way to the bank!
Understand that if an informant come to you with a drug deal you cannot refuse and you don't refuse--you’re going to prison!... And entrapment is not a defence.
All who believe in the status quo… I say more power to you.
But US prisons are privately owned multi-billion dollar corporations traded on wall street each week day.
What does that say?
ONE YEAR LOOK AT THE GROWTH OF CORRECTIONS CORP.
Does it say anything?
To me it says... some how, the great great grand sons of the human commodity… are now commodities in another industry of chains and shackles.
What a coincidence!
Paid informant are criminals who were able to set up someone in return for freedom but was so good in the art of being a rat that they are recruited and paid well to help fill private prisons.
They are sent after those with money and property which the government will later sell after each conviction to make mo’ money.
The war on drugs is a money making sham.
They know there will be no shortage of young men (poor blacks especially) that are willing to take the risk...
And every now and then, one morning you wake up to find a big fish like Buju with eyes wide like headlights and mouth dry like the Sahara, wiggling on Babylon's sticky trap.
I wish you the best Buju, you're still one of my favorite artist--but the next time you see cheese yuh better also look for the rat and the trap
The Major
Bruce Golding’s nightmare
Prime Minster Bruce Golding woke up one morning drenched in cold sweat,
“Lorna, I had the worst nightmare you could possibly dream of”
“What was it Bruce… did Portia attack me on the lawns of Jamaica House again?”
Bruce takes a deep breath and wipes his face “Nooo not that again”
His wife draws closer to him, “you dreamt there was a gay in your closet... i mean your cabinet?”
“Hush yuh mouth nuh woman… said Mr. Golding has the intensity of his nightmare grips his mind, ”Mi dream seh the US government wanted me… me Lorna meee… me of all persons to send Dudus to the US to serve a life sentence beside Buju”.
“Whaaat… Buju get life?”
“Fi get him… even tho he might damn well get 20”
“I couldn’t even imagine that happening sweetheart…” says Mrs. Lorna Golding
“What... Buju getting twenty?” The Prime Minister asked
No no no not Gargamel… he was caught tasting the potion… I’m taking about your nightmare…”
Bruce remains silent while listening to his wife.
“…you’d be stuck between a rock and a hard place… cause you’d be done if yuh send him… and yuh done if yuh don’t…
Mr. Golding’s heart skipped a beat as his wife continues, “…that would mean...
you’d be done honey!”
His heart skipped another beat
“… but don’t worry bout dat Brucie, that could never happen…”
Why couldn’t it happen Lorna…” said Mr. Golding, starting to get even more irritated, “Why… for god sake woman tell me why… why not... This is why I'm so glad you have no interest in what's going on in Jamaica... yuh chat too much foolishness man... why couldn't it happen?"
“Because no one in their right mind would expect any prime minister to have the power to send A President to prison...
...dat couldn’t happen baby… Relax yuh mind… how would the US expect you to put him in handcuffs…?"
She starts laughing, “…by starting the Jamaican civil war?”
“I’m telling you Brucie… if some’n like dat ever happen… I’m sorry, but I would have to fly out…”
A knock at the door brings instant silence to the master bedroom of Jamaica House.
Mrs. Golding clears her throat then asked, “What is it?”
“Maam, sorry to disturb yuh maam but President Obama is on the phone maam, and he said it is about Christopher Coke and it is very urgent!”
Mr. Golding shakes his head as the news brings him back to realization..."
"Damn anti-depressants", he mumbled while holding on to his chest to make sure his heart does not jump out. "B"Humbo Claat, Lorna, it's not a nighmare!", said Bruce in astonishment. "Tell him mi busy... no no no... tell him mi sick... no wait... tell him..."
Lorna interrupted, " for god's sake get a hold of yourself man... unnu know damn well unnu can't send him... and unnu know why... so tek di phone and tell Obama that you are not going to send him and that is that!"
Bruce's nightmare: http://forum.jamaica-star.com/cgi-bin/yabb/YaBB.pl?num=1267579375 & http://www.jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20100303/lead/lead1.html
No Gays, says Bruce Golding http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YeVy5Sp6xyw
Check out the new Jamaican Network, Yowlink
The Major
Who’s the most feared in Jamaica?
Of course gunmen are feared, but not the most feared.
Jamaicans are affected by violence only when the victim is a close friend or family...
Other than that, gun violence is boring... and those who are mourning now, won’t care too much about your sorrow when the table turns.
Police are also feared.
I saw one kill a man for resisting arrest. The crazy thing is… the arrest could have been made in minutes if any of the 6 officers present had a handcuff.
They held the man down, took his belt from his pants and used it to buckle his 2 hands together.
That shit did not work!
When they tried to get him up, he effortlessly pulled his hands out and began flashing police up off of him like he was possessed. One officer grabbed the waist of his pants and because he didn't have on a belt… his boxers went along for the ride to his ankles.
He kicked them off and was butt naked except for his white bobby socks and low tops.
This ain't no joke... shit is real.
One of the police who obviously had enough, pulled out a rusty 38 and shot him in the center of his chest. As he turned to run someone yelled, “geem one more”. The officer again bust him under his armpit and this time the entire crowd yelled, “geem one more”. The officer sends another straight through the center of his back dropping him in the middle of the road where he released both numbers one and two.
But police aren’t the most feared in Jamaica
The most feared don’t even carry guns, yet the garrison protects itself from them. Many from garrison communities prefers to stay and risk death rather than moving out and having to face the dreaded two.
The “well offs” and those who can afford it, pays monthly to keep them off their backs, but when payments are missed, fear, stress and worry occupy minds until they're paid.
For those without the protection of guns and excess money, the mere sight of a JPS and or Water Commission vehicle coming up the road triggers alarm sending entire communities running like cockroaches when the light is turned on
If you live in Jamaica and have never felt the fear and terror they bring... continue giving thanks… but don't rush to celebrate your civility and class...
...because in this economy you too might one day become one of us whose belly bottom quiver at the sight of a JPS or Water Commission vehicle.
The Major.
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Not searching for impeccable character
How does one find impeccable character?
"I still don’t have no idea"
Ayingi recently left me (for good this time) and though she wasn’t much in the explaining mood, I think her reason for leaving was some’n 'bout my lack of impeccable character.
She said more… but it was more like parables… even though she kept saying, over and over, that I knew what she was talking about.
Did I?
Well… I can’t really say I did... at that moment... but… I guess you can say… I've never shown her impeccable character.
Damn I was lost. I didn’t know what was going on. I wanted explanation and she was giving dial tones.
Thank God for the internet, I googled it.
“Impeccable character”
im·pec·cable(im pek′ə bəl)
adjective
- not liable to sin, incapable of wrongdoing
- without defect or error; faultless; flawless
I knew then, my baby was gone for good!
Respect to all who have been labeled "impeccable character" but that was a mountain I just couldn't climb.
However, I knew I did not want to ever lose another as special as Ayingi for not being impeccable, so I decided to do it like the ole’ fokes says.
“Fake it til you make it”
So I began.
The first thing I noticed about trying to be impeccable in character was… If your from the hood, to those who know you, you went mad... and if they know about the break up... it's because your woman left.
Some females, skeptically, acted a little nicer because I was a lot nicer... but they kinda kept staring into my eyes as if they were trying to look inside to see if "a true seh di bwoy mek gal mad him".
I realized I needed money to fake impeccable character. but I was broke. However, nothing was going to stop my change.
So I decided I had to first fake rich. Who knows, maybe I could "fake it til I make it"
Rich impeccable character wears business suits… so I bought a cheap 3 piece and tie... but couldn’t find a damn place to wear it to--other than funeral and church.
One day I decided to wear my 3 peice and tie to an appointment in New Kingston, but the minute I stepped through the zinc fence people start ask mi a who dead.
To keep the character impeccable I couldn’t answer how I wanted, so I nodded my head and kept on stepping and sweating and sweating…
and sweating
Oh Thank God I caught an empty taxi right away. The breeze coming through the windows felt like heaven but within minutes there were 3 other people on the back seat, not including fatty sitting on top of me
I realized then that, without a car with working A/C... you can’t fake rich, wearing a 3 peice, mid day, in Jamaica.
For a while I was tortured by the "single" on Ayingi's Facebook profile praying to God that would change... Now God has answered half my prayer, and changed it without me there
Not only was I tormented over my lost...
...impeccable character had imprisoned me!
My Higher power did not give me what I was looking for, but he gave me something I'll try to be.
I was led to no longer search for impeccable...
but to try to be a better me.
i wish u di bes Ayingi
Are disasters punishment from God?
Human beings cannot escape the wrath of nature.
As a matter of fact, the only question is when and where it will happen next.
With the population of earth now over 6 billion, chances are there will be high casualties whenever there are high scale natural disasters.
But are they punishment from God?
We know that earth is a living ball of energy continuously working with other planets to keep us alive. We also know that whenever super energy is at work, there has to be outlets for pressure and heat release.
Throughout history, many have suffered and died because of their location… likewise, others have flourished because of their location, but the location which saves a people from one disaster, might be ideal for another.
The Caribbean, for example, protects its citizens from volcanoes tornadoes, blizzards and freeze over, but puts them directly in the path of hurricanes and as we have recently witness in Haiti, the Caribbean tectonic plate.
Because the vast majority of earth’s citizen cannot afford the latest technologies in rescue efforts or building designs which allows for some resistance to natural disasters, there are usually more death and destruction whenever disaster happens amongst the poor.
We must always be aware that we live in a world where one man has billions… and billions of men suffer from not having one.
Neither should we ever forget that in this world, international corporations are allowed to earn millions of dollars a day in areas where the indigenous citizens are living on less than a dollar a day.
In the case of Haiti, many have blamed them with ignorant propaganda claims of divine punishment for their wickedness. Evangelist Pat Robertson was very comfortable in publicly saying they were being punished for making a deal with the devil…
Sadly… we will have similar disasters in poor areas in the future and of course it will not be because God is angry.
It will be because earth needs to shift and release a little —but people will die because their politicians will continue to made deals, not with Lucifer himself, but with respected international corporations, organizations and governments
—deals which suck the wealth and strength of a people who are no different from you and me
—deals which will destroy their hopes, aspirations and dreams of a better life for their children’s and grandchildren’s tomorrow .
These people will end up living in inferior structures sometimes no different form the dwellings of slaves and squatters Some may live in concrete structures lacking design and suitable steel reinforcements…
Meanwhile the wealth of their lands benefit strangers in far away places who live in excessive luxury and waste.
Every election we are promised a better future, less tax, more hope, change—yet each year, each term, aside from more talks, the poor becomes poorer while the rich becomes richer.
As Richie Spice’s commonsense inspired him to sing, “If education is the key… tell me why dem mek it so expensive fi we”.
Yet all over the world we see poor people starving but have no shortage of guns and ammunition which are manufactured in the lands of the giant corporations, organizations and governments which continues to make their lives a living hell.
Every morning, thousands of workers in the first world go off to work to make deadlier guns
—deadlier bullets
—they make bullet proof vest
—then bullets that go through vest
If a young man here in Jamaica is caught with just one of these bullets, he will either meet instant death or be imprisoned for many years.
He will be memorialized as a bad man... an evil man... while the makers of these weapons are considered respected citizens
We live in an unfair world where the perpetrators are not easily identified because they are also in control of the flow of information.
They have the ability to show the world that they are the aid givers, even though the aid comes with stipulations, ulterior motives and one sided benefits.
We all hear talks of better to come—yet we continue to feel the insecurity of worst.
Regardless, we must continue to give thanks because none of this is of God.
We must continue to be optimistic and positive, not because we are foolish to political tactics, but because we know we can make a difference if we all do our part in becoming better individuals who are more aware and willing to come together to support rational movements and causes which aim to benefit the future of our people…
Let us unite and support one another through high tides and low.
Some may have united against us, that’s why we must unite with those who are in the same boat as ourselves because no man is an island—no man stands alone—each man’s grief is grief to me and each man’s joy is my own.
Let us stand with the people of Haiti because we know without a doubt that God’s heart is always with the sufferer.
The Major
Jamaica WI