Expert

Satiricus was nothing if not aware he wasn’t the brightest bulb around. And if he ever forgot his limitations his buddies (not to mention his dear wife) were only too happy to remind him. So when NoGel Huge, the big time lawyer (who’s about to get “silk” any moment now) promised to bring on an “expert” to clear up all the confusion about the “racism” case, Satiricus breathed a deep sigh of relief.
His poor head had been spinning from all the charges and counter charges. Even the first lawyer for the prosecution, AG NandaBall had appeared confused. So Satiricus hadn’t felt too much like a dope. And when Satiricus heard who the expert was – he jumped for joy. David Hands was a “political scientist” declared NoGel. Satiricus had read somewhere that “political scientists” just called themselves “scientists” to give themselves some authority.
After all they couldn’t very well conduct experiments like real scientists, could they? But Satiricus didn’t give such arguments too much mind. The proof in the pudding, his dear father had always told him, was in the baking. Like the very best of scientists, David Hands could predict how the political pudding would turn out every time.
He’d predicted his party, the Working People’s Alliance (WPA), would win the elections in 1992. Well, they didn’t win… but they did scrounge up one “top up” seat. As Satiricus always said, it wasn’t whether you won or lost, it was how you wrote your manifesto. And WPA did have a wonderful, long-winded manifesto. Some people called it a “left over” seat, but Satiricus figured they were just jealous of the “bright” men like David Hands.
And just last year, look how Hands had called for Buxtonians to dig up the road in support of Linden – and eight persons had turned up. Everyone had predicted that, since WPA was now only four persons, they wouldn’t get more than that number.
Hands has doubled the predictions and showed one and all what a good “political scientist” he was.
Then look at the man’s experience, thought Satiricus with a flash of annoyance. How could they doubt the man’s credentials? Hands had been lecturing for over two decades at Arizona State University – 2000 miles from where the West Indian community is. Satiricus was sure Hands could get any job at any of the so-called “prestigious” universities near New York.
But he knew Hands didn’t want things easy: as a scientist, he loved challenges.
Hands also didn’t go in for fancy titles or the big bucks. He’d voluntarily remained as an assistant professor – the lowest man on the totem pole – with the lowest salary. Just so he’d experience what the masses did and with the same self-effacing modestly, Hands had refused to go with the big publishers when he produced his two booklets. Like the true man of the soil, he published them himself and hawked them on the Internet.
Satiricus was sure this was the expert that would shed light not only on racism in Guyana, but even on why he rejected Kissoon as a “brother”, and that wasn’t racism.