The first contract worker who got his termination letter

To watch what was taking place in the historic year of 2012 in the month of April in Guyana was an act of brutal imagination gone wild on the moors of Wuthering Heights. Was this theatre? Was it power preservation? Was it oligarchic insensitivity? Or was it early twentieth century European fascism enacted in a poor, post-colonial, banana republic where solipsism, incredulity and irony ran like larva in the streets of Georgetown after Nero’s psycho was transformed into a burning hypocrisy?
Speaker after speaker from the benches of Kafkaesque power pleaded to save the poor and ordinary. Exhorter after exhorter from their hotel suites in Stephen King’s ‘The Shining’ asked to be saved.
Kings and Queens, drinking their pink champagne in Hotel California, implored that the doors to be opened to save a nation. The imagination trembled at the display of this crass, poisonous humanity that when stripped of its Halloween masks, showed the cruelty to which indecent humans can descend.
The 2012 budget debate in a historic parliament will be remembered not so much for the bravery of a few gigantic souls from the opposition, but for the incredulous outpouring of life’s jaded fury of those whose minds have been destroyed by naked power, insane avarice and depraved egotism.
If anything flowed through the streets of Georgetown in the month of April 2012, it was the river of political psychosis in which a government that has destroyed a struggling country fought desperately to save their wealthy cocoons.
It was impossible to endure. Young men and women were hauled onto the roadways by these demonic beasts from Greek mythology and told to picket against those, patriotic gigantic souls that sought to save a country from the moneyed tentacles of these ancient Greek monsters. Coerced to denounce the AFC and APNU, the workers of NCN cannot be that stupid not to know their jailers from Freedom House were giving them the crumbs while the fat cats enjoy their multi-million-dollar luxuries.
The Speaker of the House said to his Parliamentarians that he didn’t like that type of language. We in the media have our own lexicon. Fat cat is a term that appears frequently in the dictionary of political competition. It refers to an employee that is paid a stupendous sum that he/she does not deserve.
As the economy of the US crashed two years ago, the fat cat allegation began to gain currency when the American people found out that their government was lending money to save bankrupt companies, but in the midst of the crises, the CEOs of these same troubled entities were collecting fat bonuses.
There are fat cats in Guyana and they are employed by the dinosaurs in Freedom House and the troglodytes in the PPP Government that had the temerity to tell ordinary citizens that their jobs were on the line, when the taking away of the fat cats’ pay can not only save NCN, but maybe Guyana itself.
Here is an example of the psychosis of power. From $5M for advisory work in the Office of the President in 2011, that figure jumped to $142M in the 2012 poisoned chalice. When a peep is made into the cup, a not so qualified relative of the residents of Hotel California gets $3M monthly as an advisor on information technology in the Office of the President. I have a nephew who would do that job for 90 percent less.
Do you know the first contract worker to lose his job before the psychosis of power was unleashed by the 2012 budget was me. The official position of the Ministry of Labour and the University of Guyana was that I had a contract that could be legally terminated by the employer giving three months’ salary in lieu of notice. I’m still waiting for the three months’ pay. And I am waiting to see if any of the picketers from NCN would mention the termination of the employment of this contract worker.
Could there be any nastier level of political bestiality when the intoxicators of power hauled off their employees to picket in the cruel, tropical sun to save one of the most despicable media houses in the world – the NCN? No one went over to the chief who was masquerading as a professional with his placard and asked him, “Sir, is there a difference between a private organization named the People’s Progressive Party and a nation named Guyana?”
The Freudian sycophancy in him would have forced him to say, “Sorry, there isn’t.” Under the PPP Government, the PPP is Guyana and Guyana is the PPP and NCN is the preacher of this uncivilized text. How ironic, the solipsists now want to talk to the gigantic souls.