Just Published!

https://www.postnewsline.com/2021/02/-just-published.html

 ARTICLE FROM THE UK GUARDIAN

By Marina Hyde

Date: Thu, Jan 14, 2021 at 4:13 PM
Subject:
ARTICLE FROM THE UK GUARDIAN
*TRUMP*
By Marina Hyde -

No grace, no dignity, no humility, no magnanimity, no class, no morals, no empathy, no soul. He has no friends, not even a dog.

His wife can’t bear his touch, his daughter can’t avoid it. Devoid of humour he doesn’t make jokes, he doesn’t laugh. Not ever. An occasional dismal rictus, a necrotic gash in his ochre-lacquered face-bladder signifies nothing more than his satisfaction in transacting failing with no compensating virtues. A craven coward. A sociopath. A serial rapist. A racist. A quisling. An opportunistic grifter. An inveterate cheat. A deceitful toad. A chronic liar. A shameless braggart. An ignoramus who lacks curiosity. He doesn’t read, he doesn’t care. Trump is a ridiculous, combed-over cartoon villain, a deranged clown with a face sprayed the colour of hang-over piss and toilet paper stuck to his shoe, whose wits are defeated by an open umbrella.

Rake the forests, nuke the hurricanes, inject the bleach, water bomb Notre Dame Cathedral, trade Greenland for Puerto Rico. Trump’s pompous idiocies are exceeded only by his appalling ignorance. Crediting the British with the foresight to build airstrips in the war of independence 110 years before the Wright Brothers first took flight, revealing the hitherto unknown Himalayan countries of Nipple and Button, accusing Baltic leaders of starting Balkans wars!

This clueless buffoon brags that he was able to keep the crayon inside the lines on his dementia test. Accusing Trump of a lack of self-awareness is like accusing Myra Hindley of poor child care standards. The Grand Fubar of dysfunction, the maestro of petty vindictiveness, of malice and resentful belligerence is testing coup options yet America flatters itself as being “the world’s greatest democracy” much to the bemusement of observers here in Oz. It’s beyond our imagining that we’d ever have a bloated braggart, a liar, a hypocrite, a lazy shirker, a crony-stacking blame shifter at the helm filtering Murdoch’s kidney stones through his teeth while monetizing a pandemic for the benefit of rich mates. Oh… what?

Trump, if he’d had the imagination, would’ve considered handing out small-pox infected blankets in Democrat-leaning districts but it’s too late now. A majority of Americans have said enough is enough. After 4 years of what-the-fuck-has-he-done-now, 46,123 tweets and 20,000 documented lies while in office to 9th July 2020 he’s been reduced to pathetic whimperings from his puckered-sphincter pout, playing his invisible accordion to an audience of gormless dullards, fellow hucksters and his retinue of fawning toadies, thralls, invertebrate lickspittles and hangers-on whose fealty is demanded but never reciprocated and who had neither the self-respect nor the courage to call out the capture of the US by an amoral, moronic lunatic.

We cannot know what tipped the scales against Trump. No lie has been too outrageous, bragging about sexual assault was just locker-room talk, five bankruptcies are apparently indicative of an astute businessman, stealing from a children’s cancer charity is fake news. Being laughed at by foreign leaders meh, because y’all –“Merica!” Throwing meat to Boogaloos, Proud Boys, Klansmen and Call Of Duty cos-players was addressing his base. Perhaps it was inciting violence from uniformed goon squads sooled onto lawful BLM protesters that crossed the line. Perhaps it was the denigration of war dead and veterans as losers and suckers by adraft-dodging, yellow, mangy dog that did it. More likely it was 11 million Covid-infected Americans, a quarter of a million who died while the orange blobulator ignored it, denied it, played it down, finger-pointed and then looked for ways to exploit it for his own advantage.

There is no excusing Trump, there is no sympathy that should be wasted on this pathetic parasite.

History should not record him as some sort of tragic King Lear but as an effluvium, a discharge from the bowels of a diseased system; a funk that has now been shared. He had always exhibited the narcissistic and antisocial personality disorders of a lack of empathy, grandiosity, lying and deceit, indifference to conventional laws or rules or morality that characterize a despot. But he possessed none of the cunning, artifice, commitment to a cause beyond himself, the political skills of a Stalin or the oratory of a Mussolini. He had no ambition beyond the grift and the trappings – palaces awash with potentate kitsch, a yearning for military parades, a pneumatic wife and his narcissistic cult of personality. He has no talent beyond the con, he’s a schmuck with the dumb luck to be born into wealth that metastasized B-grade celebrity into A-grade larceny.

Fittingly, he’s spending his last days shaping his own humiliation. It’s an Armando Iannucci script playing out in real life. If Trump was to be found drooling in a pool of his own piss ala Stalin or dragged Sadam-like from his bolt-hole it would be the most metaphorically noteworthy achievement of his time in office.

Gone too will be his dreadful spawn. Ivanka’s in-it-up-to-her-nose-job reputation may limit her future career prospects to hand-job supervisor at a New York sperm bank while Uday and Qusay could end up in Ryker’s Island trading sexual favours for lines. Jared Kushner may get a gig at a Madame Tussaud exhibit of auto-matronic rentboys. Melania, no doubt, would enjoy the embrace of a Justin Trudeau look-alike cabana boy, chuckling at the thought that Trump has only Rudi Guiliani left to go through the pre-nup looking for loopholes.

The end of America’s nightmare is near. However it plays out over the next two months, Trump is finished.

The irrelevant man.

A loser.

Bro, this is long but if you like literature, this is for you. Please read the following and see how kontri tok di work for pipo wey na dem kontri tok. See how English woman take finish with Trump.

AN ARTICLE FROM THE UK GUARDIAN
by Marina Hyde

Date: Thu, Jan 14, 2021 at 4:13 PM
Subject:
ARTICLE FROM THE UK GUARDIAN
*TRUMP*
by Marina Hyde -

No grace, no dignity, no humility, no magnanimity, no class, no morals, no empathy, no soul. He has no friends, not even a dog.

His wife can’t bear his touch, his daughter can’t avoid it. Devoid of humour he doesn’t make jokes, he doesn’t laugh. Not ever. An occasional dismal rictus, a necrotic gash in his ochre-lacquered face-bladder signifies nothing more than his satisfaction in transacting failing with no compensating virtues. A craven coward. A sociopath. A serial rapist. A racist. A quisling. An opportunistic grifter. An inveterate cheat. A deceitful toad. A chronic liar. A shameless braggart. An ignoramus who lacks curiosity. He doesn’t read, he doesn’t care. Trump is a ridiculous, combed-over cartoon villain, a deranged clown with a face sprayed the colour of hang-over piss and toilet paper stuck to his shoe, whose wits are defeated by an open umbrella.

Rake the forests, nuke the hurricanes, inject the bleach, water bomb Notre Dame Cathedral, trade Greenland for Puerto Rico. Trump’s pompous idiocies are exceeded only by his appalling ignorance. Crediting the British with the foresight to build airstrips in the war of independence 110 years before the Wright Brothers first took flight, revealing the hitherto unknown Himalayan countries of Nipple and Button, accusing Baltic leaders of starting Balkans wars!

This clueless buffoon brags that he was able to keep the crayon inside the lines on his dementia test. Accusing Trump of a lack of self-awareness is like accusing Myra Hindley of poor child care standards. The Grand Fubar of dysfunction, the maestro of petty vindictiveness, of malice and resentful belligerence is testing coup options yet America flatters itself as being “the world’s greatest democracy” much to the bemusement of observers here in Oz. It’s beyond our imagining that we’d ever have a bloated braggart, a liar, a hypocrite, a lazy shirker, a crony-stacking blame shifter at the helm filtering Murdoch’s kidney stones through his teeth while monetizing a pandemic for the benefit of rich mates. Oh… what?

Trump, if he’d had the imagination, would’ve considered handing out small-pox infected blankets in Democrat-leaning districts but it’s too late now. A majority of Americans have said enough is enough. After 4 years of what-the-fuck-has-he-done-now, 46,123 tweets and 20,000 documented lies while in office to 9th July 2020 he’s been reduced to pathetic whimperings from his puckered-sphincter pout, playing his invisible accordion to an audience of gormless dullards, fellow hucksters and his retinue of fawning toadies, thralls, invertebrate lickspittles and hangers-on whose fealty is demanded but never reciprocated and who had neither the self-respect nor the courage to call out the capture of the US by an amoral, moronic lunatic.

We cannot know what tipped the scales against Trump. No lie has been too outrageous, bragging about sexual assault was just locker-room talk, five bankruptcies are apparently indicative of an astute businessman, stealing from a children’s cancer charity is fake news. Being laughed at by foreign leaders meh, because y’all –“Merica!” Throwing meat to Boogaloos, Proud Boys, Klansmen and Call Of Duty cos-players was addressing his base. Perhaps it was inciting violence from uniformed goon squads sooled onto lawful BLM protesters that crossed the line. Perhaps it was the denigration of war dead and veterans as losers and suckers by adraft-dodging, yellow, mangy dog that did it. More likely it was 11 million Covid-infected Americans, a quarter of a million who died while the orange blobulator ignored it, denied it, played it down, finger-pointed and then looked for ways to exploit it for his own advantage.

There is no excusing Trump, there is no sympathy that should be wasted on this pathetic parasite.

History should not record him as some sort of tragic King Lear but as an effluvium, a discharge from the bowels of a diseased system; a funk that has now been shared. He had always exhibited the narcissistic and antisocial personality disorders of a lack of empathy, grandiosity, lying and deceit, indifference to conventional laws or rules or morality that characterize a despot. But he possessed none of the cunning, artifice, commitment to a cause beyond himself, the political skills of a Stalin or the oratory of a Mussolini. He had no ambition beyond the grift and the trappings – palaces awash with potentate kitsch, a yearning for military parades, a pneumatic wife and his narcissistic cult of personality. He has no talent beyond the con, he’s a schmuck with the dumb luck to be born into wealth that metastasized B-grade celebrity into A-grade larceny.

Fittingly, he’s spending his last days shaping his own humiliation. It’s an Armando Iannucci script playing out in real life. If Trump was to be found drooling in a pool of his own piss ala Stalin or dragged Sadam-like from his bolt-hole it would be the most metaphorically noteworthy achievement of his time in office.

Gone too will be his dreadful spawn. Ivanka’s in-it-up-to-her-nose-job reputation may limit her future career prospects to hand-job supervisor at a New York sperm bank while Uday and Qusay could end up in Ryker’s Island trading sexual favours for lines. Jared Kushner may get a gig at a Madame Tussaud exhibit of auto-matronic rentboys. Melania, no doubt, would enjoy the embrace of a Justin Trudeau look-alike cabana boy, chuckling at the thought that Trump has only Rudi Guiliani left to go through the pre-nup looking for loopholes.

The end of America’s nightmare is near. However it plays out over the next two months, Trump is finished.

The irrelevant man.

A loser.

 

 

 

Lament of an Ambazonian Revolutionary

 

 By Professor Peter Wuteh Vakunta

 

 

Weep not child![i]/

My heart bleeds for you!/

I weep for all the/

Lost souls of Ambazonia!/

Strangers in their homeland/

Beasts of no Nation/

I lament for the unborn kids/

Of the Republic of Ambazonia/

Hijacked kith and kindred/

I mourn for the Six School/

Kids murdered in Kumba/

Decimated by the vampires of Paul Biya/

On October 24, 2020 in the restive/

Town of Kumba in a school/

Sandwiched in Fiango neighborhood/

The Infamous Mother Francisca/

International Bilingual Academy/

We shall never know/

The real motives behind/

This gruesome murder but be it/

Known that this infamy was not/

The handiwork of Ambazonian/

Freedom fighters; rather it was a/

Machination by the Biya Regime/

To baptize Ambazonian

Freedom Fighters as Terrorists/

Hogwash! Baloney!

 

I HAVE A DREAM…

That one day Ambazonia/

Will be free. Utterly free/

Free! Free! Free at last!/

From the rubble of decay/

And of decrepitude/

Will rise a New Nation/

Rejuvenated Republic of Amba!/

Not by thunderstorm/

Not by tornado/

Not by hailstone/

Nor by neck-lacing/

Not by house-torching/

Nor by manslaughter/

Not by kangaroo courts/

But by the mettle and bravado/

Of diehard Ambazonians/

Armed with the resolve to be free!/

We’re birds of passage/

Of good omen/

Of bad omen/

Of mixed omens.

 

Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D.

Endnotes

-----------

[i] Title of a novel by Ngugi wa Thiong’o

 Acephalous IG: Locusts of Ambazonian Revolution

By

Peter Wuteh Vakunta, Ph.D 

When did torrential rains

Start to fall on Ambazonians?

Where did rain clouds gather?

Was it at Foumban

Or at Ntarikon Park?

Who created the Infamous

Interim Government (IG)?

Is it Sisiku Julius Ayuk Tabe

Or Deacon Wilfred Tassang?

Where does Agbor Felix Balla Nkongho

Feature in all this hullabaloo?

Take the pulse of the Revolution—

A War of Attrition

Or Liberation Struggle?

Moving TGV (Train à Grande Vitesse)

Or Sinking Titanic in need of S.O.S?

Man no run!

Man no die man no rotten!

In this day and age,

Who heads the Amba Revolution?

Is it Nitwit Samuel Ikome Sako

Or Ninety-Nine Sense Christopher Anu?

Or is it bird of ill omen

Lucas Ayaba Cho?

What does the acronym SOCADEF stand for?

Southern Cameroons Defense Force!

Who is Commander-in-Chief of SOCADEF?

Is it Ayaba Cho Lucas or

Or the Maquisard,[ii]

Kondengui prisoner without a crime,

Ebenezer Derek Mbongo Akwanga?

These are locusts,

Not bona fide leaders

Hell-bent on crippling the struggle

By double dipping in

La mangeoire de la révolution[iii],

Wheeling and dealing

Through kleptomania

Locusts /

These nefarious insects do not build

They destroy!

They dilapidate!

Crogg/crogg/crogg/

They have destroyed the Revolution!—

They have demoralized

Our fighters on GZ!

Locusts /

Cragg/cragg/cragg/

Bastards! Assholes!

Emasculators of justice!

These hoodlums don’t nurture/

They devastate with impunity!

They don’t lead;

They mislead!

They don’t build;

They self-destruct!

Ambazonia’s gravediggers!

They have destroyed our struggle!

Crigg/crigg/crigg

Locusts,

These insects are hard

At work destroying

The legacy bequeathed

To Us by Forebears

Locusts are in charge of

Our Collective Dream.

Shall they make or mar?

That is the question!

It’s a trap/

A REAL booby-trap/

For unsuspecting insects of prey/

An insidious entanglement/

For unwary human beings/

Our Battle is locked/

In a multitude of cobwebs/

Caught we are/

In ego consciousness,

In our web of intrigues.

Nonetheless…/

I have a dream that one day/

Southern Cameroonians will bounce /

Back to sanity/

On that day/

Ambazonians will know

Who the real leaders were/

I have a dream…/

That though the blows may be hard

On Ambazonians/

They shall pull the punches/

Stay the course/

And see light at the

End of the tunnel

I have a dream…/

That one day Ambazonia/

Will be free…free at last! /

I shed tears for Ambazonia/

You know why merciful Lord/

Tears of muteness/

Frustration/

Sorrow/

Despondency/

Angst/

Melancholy/

Trauma…/

 Notes

[i]  Headless

[ii] Someone who lives underground

[iii] Public coffers