Most of the grouses are of the dog-in-the-manger variety. Those among us who can’t go back to our countries without being arrested or shot on sight or spat upon in the street, are deeply envious of the way Baby Doc has waltzed into the country he raped and pillaged for 15 years and even had UN security and scores of supporters meet him at the airport. Jean Kambanda circulated this photo of a group of Duvalier supporters at the Port-au-Prince airport with a note saying “I hope that fucking doll conceals a bomb in its belly!” Kambanda’s comment was immediately shot down for violating list policy regarding incitements to violence and use of expletives.

“Jean-Claude is one of us, regardless of whether he acts like a snake in the grass,” wrote Charles Taylor with uncharacteristic eloquence. “I just hope he remembers to bring us all back souvenirs.”

“Souvenirs of what?” replied Manuel Noriega. “Cholera?” Everyone agreed Manny’s comment was in poor taste, but the man sort of had a point.

Imelda Marcos, who’s well known on the list for zeroing in on irrelevant details, then questioned whether a teddy bear could accurately be called a doll. Zine al-Abidine Ben Ali, who’s become one of the list’s most active members in spite of having joined only a few days ago, said it depended on what sort of eyes the bear had. I can tell he’s going to be a real asset to the group.

They’re a bunch of mean, nasty scoundrels and many of them have blood on their hands, but I wouldn’t trade my ex-dictator buddies for all the money in the Trinidad and Tobago treasury. At least not until they remove the gas subsidy.

Back home from the piano caper, I turned on the computer to check on my Farmville livestock only to find scores of messages from members of the ex-dictators Google Group. The main topics of discussion were deciding on an appropriate username for incoming member Zine El Abidine Ben Ali of Tunisia, and whether we should purchase additional server space to accommodate the influx of Arab dictators some list members believe will take place in the wake of Ben Ali’s overthrow. Then there was a drawn-out discussion about this eventuality, with one faction within the group (Noreiga, Charles Taylor, Imelda Marcos) saying we shouldn’t hold our breath for this to happen, and another (Baby Doc, Jean Kambanda, Jorge Videla) saying that it was only a matter of time.

The group ended up voting 20/18 in favour of buying the extra server space, which of course raised the perennial question of who could pay for it. The usual song-and-dance ensued, with Imelda Marcos volunteering to sell off a few pairs of shoes to cover the costs (a totally ridiculous proposition, considering that Imelda’s shoe collection these days comprises a few dozen Havaianas flip-flops), and somebody else offering to unfreeze funds in a Swiss bank account that all of us knew had been depleted long ago by various attorneys, reparations payments and greedy ex-wives. The most workable suggestion came from Kambanda, who said he’d e-mail Laurent Gbagbo and see if he’d foot the bill on our behalf, seeing as he’ll soon be joining our ranks.

Then I had to leave for parliament, where my siesta was interrupted by the other members of the House conducting government business, and where, alas, they no longer serve pone at tea time.

Here’s a sampling of the kind of letters I’m receiving:

Dere Patos,

I fine Kamla remarkz were relly dotish and I relly want to boycut Trinidad and Tobago producks. Un4tuneately my cuntreez govment dusent offer free educashun an my family wuz too poor to sen me to skool, so I am funkshunally illiterate an it tek me owuz to reed labelz on producks in de soopermaket.

Cud u plz sen me pitchaz of Trinidad an Tobago producks so I cyan no wat I shuddunt be buyin?

Sinsearly,
Analphabetic in [name of country omitted]

—

Dear Patrick,

Long time no communicate. Sorry I didn’t call you after the election to commiserate, especially considering how close we became while you were in power, but you know how it goes.

Things are going well here at the Ministry of [name omitted], but naturally we’re up to our ears dealing with the aftermath of Hurricane Tomas. I haven’t even had time for a good round of golf lately, and of course it’s too risky at this time of year to go out in my yacht.

Which, incidentally, is why I’m writing you. About those comments that selfish [string of expletives omitted] Kamla made the other day: what the [expletive omitted] is she trying to do to us here in [name of country omitted]? Doesn’t she realise that people here are suffering, and, more importantly, that the hardware chain I have majority shares in has several containerloads of construction materials that arrived only last week from Shanghai? How am I supposed to move this product if this [racial ephithets removed] woman insists we have to use Trinidad and Tobago products?

See what you can do, nah.

Regards,
Hon. [Name omitted]
Ministry of [name omitted]
[Name of country omitted]

—

Dear Patos,

You’re sort of a social media power user, right? Reason I ask is that sitting in my house in Petit Valley the other evening, just to be jokey, I set up a fake Facebook account under the guise of a Jamaican national and created a Facebook group calling for a boycott of Trinidad and Tobago products in the aftermath of Kamla’s comments about aid to CARICOM nations after Hurricane Tomas. As I was still dying of boredom after setting up the page, I decided to send the link to all my BBM contacts.

Having used a Far Side cartoon as a profile picture, I thought that people would have cottoned on to the non-seriousness of my effort, but it seems that Facebook users aren’t very discriminating where such things are concerned. People started taking the thing seriously: at the time of writing the page has been “liked” by 50,000 users and has garnered 145,000 comments, including some rather unsavoury and menacing ones from Jamaican gang leaders. The latest is that I’ve been invited to give the keynote speech at a rally in Spanish Town in support of the boycott.

What should I do? I fear that if I delete the page there’ll be serious repercussions, as some of the group members seem to have Facebook confused with real life. At least one member has gone on a hunger strike, vowing not to eat until Kamla apologises, and another claims to know my IP address and has threatened to expose me if I do anything to jeopardise the groundswell of support for the boycott.

Help!!

Yours,
Viral in the Valley