Category: Satiricus

Satiricus had never been a rich man, but he never really minded. He figured he had enough to worry about his blood pressure going up and down, so why add whether his stocks were going up or down? But sometimes, he would wonder idly how rich people thought about things. Well, now he would know. Courtesy of his wife’s niece, the maid, Satiricus had in his hot little hands the diary of Tuney Voira, whose father had to have known he had a future in television. Why else would he…

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Satiricus was dazzled. On his daily rounds as a scribbler, he was passing the Office of the President. He wondered if it was a meteor landing, when he saw the light, but realised that it was just the glare from a head so bald and so smooth that it made a billiard ball look like a catahar! Moving to another angle to avoid the reflection, he realised it was his drinking buddy from back in the Big Market day, Mook Lall. Lall had moved on (Satiricus wasn’t sure whether the…

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Satiricus has taken pains to point out he’s an old journalistic hack. He’s always been aware of the old cliché as to what constitutes ‘news’. Dog bites man….naah. That’s old hat. Man bites dog… now you’ve got some real hot news on your hands. And this was exactly the reaction Satiricus experienced when he saw the editorial position expressed in the MuckrakerKN on Saturday. Here was the MuckrakerKN, who’d allowed their letters pages to be available to every Tom, Dick and Harripaul to cuss down the government and supporters of…

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Satiricus was singing his hallelujahs. Why shouldn’t he? He just finished dinner and was throwing back in his Berbice Chair. He’d read about an amazing declaration by the opposition. Seems they demanded that ministers of the government ought to take ‘lie detector’ tests. They didn’t say for what, but presumably about what they were doing on the job. Satiricus knew that accusations had been flowing fast and furious about corruption. So when the government accepted the suggestion and demanded that the opposition also take polygraph tests (that’s the fancy name…

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As Satiricus pointed out, he’s a budget junkie. After listening to the presentation on TV (all right, all right, so he took a few winks in between), he always lapped up the commentaries for the next few weeks. Then of course, would come the main event: the chops to the budget by the opposition. Satiricus always enjoyed the Suspenders’ take on the budget. After all, he was a bookkeeper for all those donkey years. If he didn’t know about numbers, who would? Lately, however, Satiricus had been having some problems…

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Satiricus enjoyed listening to budget speeches. Some people might find them boring. But not Satiricus. He always parked himself in front of his TV; made sure his channa and phoulourie were ready – not to mention his beers and let the numbers roll over him. The heckling from the opposition benches was an added bonus. This year, he was not disappointed. It was like Christmas all over again – there was something for everybody. But the opposition did their number. There was Karl in the front seats opposite Minister Sing.…

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Satiricus was pleased. In fact, Satiricus was pleased as Punch. Satiricus had read where the gentle and urbane Speaker of the House had chastised MPs from both sides of the House for using quite unbecoming language in the hallowed halls of Parliament. He exhorted them to use kinder and gentler words. Were they not all honourable men? Then there was his predecessor. An even more gentle and urbane (if that were possible) man, who after being nastily and brutishly attacked, merely picked up his briefcase and walked away. A man…

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Satiricus is a simple man. An uncomplicated man. He admired those who can sacrifice their own lives for the good of others. He would’ve liked to do some good himself. Like Dr Jagan. But he admitted he just couldn’t forego all the good things in life he would have to if he went down that road. Like bending his elbow with the boys at the back street dive. And of course, his wife would certainly walk out if he wandered in at all kinds of hours. Satiricus always felt Cheddi…

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Satiricus was very upset at the way the Muckraker KN had insulted the members of the Private Section Committee (PSC). Some new columnist has dared to say all kind of nasty things about these goodly gentlemen who were single-handedly developing this country. They were even so bold to call names. Satiricus was an old journalistic hack and he knew this was not the usual way for even the Muckraker to act. The PSC had fumed: “The disgraceful publication of this rubbish displays the worst form of gutter journalism and completely…

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Satiricus sighed. He’d so much hoped that all this confusion and bad blood over Linden would’ve ended with the Report. But such hope hadn’t even lasted a day. Seems that the Report has only stirred up the ants’ nest where the residents must’ve been only resting. And waiting. But Satiricus had long suspected the commissioners weren’t going to be able to please everybody. That became very clear during the hearings – which Satiricus covered for his day job as a scribbler. The venom and the bitterness was so thick when…

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