The wanton violence permeating society is an obvious reflection that some of this country’s parents are continously failing their children.
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Pelting down the eye in the sky
I have never felt prouder of my fellow citizens than when I read that the drone that fell onto a couple of fellows at a fete in San Fernando had been pelted down. Fellow citizens, you have done what innumerable peoples over the world, including the Taliban in Afghanistan, have been unable to do. Never mind that the drones over there circulate at 10,000 feet or more and it kinda hard to pelt that high—obviously, Trinis do not intend to take this latest invasion of our privacy easily. There are others who think like us. The town of Deer Trail, Colorado, population 598, is scheduled to vote later this year on a measure that would allow its residents to shoot down drones. The ordinance puts a bounty on recovered parts—$25 for the fuselage or wing, $100 for a whole drone. We could do worse. You know, one thing about Trini, he could pelt. Since I small, the main way I know Trini fighting, especially around Carnival time, is pelting. Pelt anything. Bottle. Stone.
Mango. I was at the Oval in ’61 when the Test between England and West Indies had was to stop because a section of the crowd start to pelt the English with rum bottle after they run out a Trini cricketer. One fellow, I know, pelt a car battery once at a thief and knocked him off his motorbike. And as everyone know at Calypso semis in south, if they don’t like how or what you sing or if you looking too whitey-whitey, they does pelt yuh with toilet paper. In fact it seems like Carnival time is the best time in Triniland to pelt. Is not a surprise they pelt the drone. At one time, I was afraid that our cricketers had forgotten how to pelt and I put it down to the absence of mango trees in town. That is how Trinis learn to pelt. I knew boys who would pelt down the first mango with a stone and then use the mango to pelt down more.