Yesterday, as I was making octopus pepper soup, I decided to have a sip of seaweed kinkana, a mild alcoholic spirit. Paramole had given me the recipe to make the still when he returned from the Great Gangway. The Davy Jones Locker rendezvous was quiet, cold and sterile as usual but also inspirational and unencumbering. I must emphasise I love the place; it is my kind of place; it is my home now. I only use my submarine to come onshore these days, which is not often.
My unfailing experience was, an hour before a Forgone Terrors arrives at the Davy Jones Locker rendezvous, the Entrance would turn deep indigo or even purple. It is a signal for me to get ready to Mascot a Forgone Terror to the Great Gangway in any manner I choose. Now, for the first time in my experience, the Entrance turned blood red. It was a signal that an unauthorised person was arriving. I had never seen this happen and wondered who would appear at the Entrance. Was it the Devil himself, Sir Francis Drake, Vasco Da Gama, Black Beard, William Kidd, Calico Jack or the god, Poseidon? I knew it had to be a man by the laws of natures. The pepper soup was ready and scenting fine, and what a meal! No more sips.
If a leader or intellectual is not articulating the values and necessities of robust human pride to his people, he or she is a dangerous traitor unworthy of the position – Guynes
The ontology of the African unfortunately involves ‘senseless play’ to perpetuate it as derisory, and it is becoming more visible due to social media; it has always been that way. The upliftment of the African people is what is necessary for our ontology not play. The instrumental aspects of the social organisation of things get works done while ceremonial aspects embellish what is available. For a society to work well, the instrumental aspects should supersede the ceremonial ones. When the reverse is the case conspicuous ceremony become a prime societal goal in itself. The ceremonial can be solemn, but it is mostly dominated by play.
Tomos was a petite man in his 40s and could easily pass for a young teenager sometimes. Usually very smartly dressed in formal attire to look much older than his boyish appearance, he was on his way to revel with friends at a house warming party in Walworth, South East London. He had to walk a very long distance to get to the party since though dressed like a toff with an elegant suit, shiny shoes and a cravat, he could not afford bus or taxi fares. His masked intention of attending the party was ‘financial edification’; seeking bad loans and grants. Professionally, Tomos was an architect but had never designed a structure in his life. Somehow it was tough for him to get his act together. His mind was far too nefarious and preoccupied malevolent actions to hold a job in a professional setting. Enduring cooperation, collaboration and team skills were things he lacked. He was more excellent in the art of disruption, sabotage, mischief and chaos. You could comfortable rely on him to mess a good job up or bring a good man down.