First with the news and free with its views                                     First with the news and free with its views                             First with the news and free with its views                                    


  September 9, 2007  Volume 14, Issue 12










The meek shall inherit Mervyn...

Darling Mahinda

One is rather depressed these days darling as one looks out yonder into the purple plains reduced as one is in these dark times to sip a ho hum Merlot and nibble on a Kotmale cheese stick.

Thellie ever so often likes to think deep thoughts as she cradles in her shapely hand a nicely chilled Moet and Chandon, but life is getting tougher for us aristocrats even as we speak.

So I was pleasantly surprised to learn that you had decided to tax the bally mobile phone ó a rather middle class contraption widely used by the lower classes like the vegetable vendors and your favourite breed, the three-wheel chaps. Donít get me wrong. Thellie is a great fan of the three wheeler. I mean what else can take you from A to B and all the time with your heart in your mouth?

Why I used to often wonder, was Thellie singled out as a woman of particular sin as all her favourite indulgences were taxed to death, sometimes even prompting me to affectionately call you the ultimate taxidermist.

Now at least you are heaping burdens on the poor too. Serve the fellows right. I mean to say. But Iím beginning to become more tolerant of you these days darling because I read somewhere that the meek shall inherit the Earth. Well anything is worth trying at a time like this.

So far a vegetable vendor tried to treat me like a door mat at which point I pounced on him like an angry airdale and he retreated to a corner, hurt. But Iíll continue to experiment this meek shall inherit the E theory because darling, considering how badly the economy is doing me thinks thatís my only chance.

And having got into the meek energy vortex for the nonce you can judge of my surprise when I read that ole Merv the Perv was maintaining stoically that he was receiving what one could modestly call, and I blush as I say this ó death threats. I mean to say Iíve heard about the lion lying down with the lamb; Iíve even heard tell of swords being beaten into plough shares but a threat on ole Merv, tch tch is all I can manage to utter.

And in these trying times the antics of Merv becomes a welcome, nay necessary distraction. I canít say the same about the fruit of his loom darling. I mean to say the Romans had the lions and the gladiators and the Spaniards had the bulls and somehow it seemed to satisfy the lust for blood and gore that pulls at the guts of the human soul or what not.

I mean to say darling perchance one is caught in a salubrious setting at a restaurant nibbling on a garlic toast all you have to do to get yourself jumping about as if pricked on the trouser seat by a bradawl is to have that chap Malaka walk in at the door. One is bound to feel like one of those early Christians as they were being thrown to the lions willy nilly.

When I think about the injustice of it all dear I can raise an eyebrow if not two and if I were an alien ó a moot point ó then perhaps even three or four. With that chap Malaka lurking about at night clubs and hotel lobbies and restaurants one has just about as much privacy as a strip-tease dancer in a bally frat house. With that pain in the thingamajig around dearie I may as well tell you the rest of Paradise is about as safe as a wild boar in that famous little Gaulish village in or around 55BC.

So what can be done about it all is the million dollar question. But then again court jesters are a dime a dozen these days so if Mervy getís a little miffed with you and decides to go fall at the feet of someone else there would always be a replacement.

But enough of that darling, what about the ole banana republic. And I believe you were asked about the ole bananaÖrepublic I mean just last week by the sibling of the poor fellow who was bashed about like an old sock by Mervís tiny toddler at a night club down Duplication Road.

Imagine for a moment if you will the tiny fellow stuffed inside his blue knicker bockers ambling along wanting his own way as papa Merv stands around idly wearing dark glasses and a vest.

But I digress, I want to chat for a moment about the big mouthed dentist and his proud place in your tent. Donít tell me he did a wisdom filling for you too. I mean to say he did one for Satty, so why not do one for you? And from the looks of it the dentist is one who wants to balance things out somewhat.

But it shook me a good deal that you would take his side over Dilanís but then again Iíve heard it told youíve always got to be good to your dentist. I mean have you seen the metal tools they wield?



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