Home' Trinidad and Tobago Guardian : June 21st 2013 Contents A23
Friday, June 21, 2013 www.guardian.co.tt Guardian
The Couva/Tabaquite/Talparo Regional Corporation wishes to
inform burgesses of the Region that all requests for the clean-
ing of septics tanks and cesspits will be conducted at the
Accounts Department, Administrative Building, Railway Road,
Couva with effect from 01st July, 2013.
The Public Health Department located upstairs, V & S
Supermarket, Main Road, Couva will no longer be accepting
any request for such services.
Please be guided accordingly.
Ag. CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER
In his great work Of Human
Bondage, W Somerset
Maugham tells of the king
who asks his philosophers to
explain the meaning of life. They
work for a decade to produce a
hundred 1,000-page volumes, but
the king tells them to shorten it.
Ten years later, they cut it to
ten volumes. He sends them
A decade later they have a sin-
gle 1,000-page book, but it s still
too long, so, ten years on, they
finally return with the meaning
of life reduced to a single line
comprehensible even for royalty
and Wall Street bankers: he was
born, he suffered, and he died.
Or, as the old blues song
affirms: Life is hard. And then
Life isn t designed for happi-
ness. Not with Haiti. Not with
Rwanda. Not with the Holocaust.
Not with Gaza. Not with the
PNM and the UNC. You look at
all of that and you know there
could not be a God.
Certainly not the God imagined
by religious folk, to whom you
can pray for a winning lotto tick-
et or good weather for the crick-
et.But there just might be a frag-
One who needs us more than
we need him.
One who would collapse and
vanish if we failed him, not the
other way around.
That kind of God can t do
much for us, apart from love us
and put what little hand he can.
Though the most powerful
multinational organisations on
Earth---its organised religions---are
founded on the lie, God does not
send us prophets or saviours.
Instead, the father, in his mercy
(and wisdom) sends a little
And we re better off with the
music than the messiah.
The gods, and their messen-
gers, have always let us down.
But music never fails us. From
the time we have, as a species,
tried to find a way forward
together, there have walked
amongst us a handful of people
we could count on to alleviate
To make it even good for a
And, in Trinidad, David Rudder
walks at their head.
For a full anthropological gen-
eration now, David Rudder has
brought us music to wash away
all our unlovely. With a tireless-
ness exhausting just to contem-
plate, he has returned to the fray
offering up better versions of
ourselves for us to celebrate.
And he s made us dance while
His musical celebration of his
60th birthday, 6.0, at the Savan-
nah a week from tomorrow, will
be the musical event of the year,
no doubt, probably of the decade,
possibly of the century. The
faithful will be assembled en
masse and their high priest will
be magnificent; the hair on my
body stands on end, contemplat-
ing the prospect.
For this is what King David
brings us in his psalms: a handful
of magic moments we can keep,
forever, in our upraised palms; a
cradle of moments that can carry
us all together just a little longer.
And allow us to lift up our frail
little God to become the Most
I cannot hear the opening
notes of Calypso Music or Rally
without my heart soaring. From
the big hit songs like Bahia Girl
and Bacchanal Woman through
The Ganges and the Nile to the
unnoticed masterpieces like
Tuesday Night Lover, Department
of Percussive Energy and Once
Upon a Time/Exile, in a cata-
logue of songs written for---
meaning "on behalf of"---the
Caribbean, David Rudder has
recreated the lives and spirit of
everyone who s ever lived any-
where, and given his predica-
ment, and his privilege, some
thought Frank Sinatra and Aris-
totle could check David Rudder s
groove and nod their heads.
From the Catholic Church,
which preferred to protect sex
offenders than their victims, to
an American vice-president
dunce who couldn t spell potato,
David Rudder s songs cover the
world and constitute a veritable
armoury from which he can pull
out and put together the
weaponry to blow us away. And,
in concert---in church---these
songs bring us all the closest we
will ever get to the best parts of
ourselves. This music, is not
about rum, poom-poom, leggo or
wine down (though they all may
come into delightful play in a
This music is us. And God.
At a David Rudder gig, we
gather in the name of the thing
the Bible calls "the Word"---
because not even God could
express that untouchable thing
that we, as Trinidadians, as suf-
ferers of the W Somerset Maugh-
am school, as human beings, all
plug into when David sings his
songs for lonely souls and brings
ours together in joy.
I m not a believer. I see the
suffering in the world and know
that no God could exist who
could put a hand but refuses to
lift a finger. But when King David
returns to the Savannah, if I m
lucky enough to be there, when
those first keyboard notes of
Calypso Music (or Madness, or
Dus in Dey Face, or Panama or
High Mas) rise up, I will not
I will know.
That, even though life is hard
and then we die, before we give
finger; that, before we die, we
We declare to the universe that
we are here.
And we not going home until
And to hell with all who don t
know where we going, or how we
getting there. Give praises. Even
if the man who collecting them
forget to bring the bucket. Again.
Life is hard. And then you die.
But, in the Savannah for David
Rudder 6.0, you hold eternity in
your upraised hands.
And, for that little while,
everything is all yours.
It could carry you forever.
BC Pires is on a Bajan plan-
tation but is heading for the Big
Yard. E-mail your backstage pass-
es to him at firstname.lastname@example.org
THE FATHER IN HIS MERCY
THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY
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