Swinging against the wall and with the last vestige of his personality shattered, Sweet Micky has launched a new ploy. This time, pushing forward to coax the deprived population is his Finance Minister—Wilson Laleau, a blatant arriviste who embodies the true and quintessential nature of petty bourgeois vulgarism and outright opportunism. Laleau’s new task is to use his skills as a former State University administrator to offer university graduates some 2 to 3 months internship at some untold offices. The sole aim is to force them into submission.
Trying to hoodwink Haitian students will not work, for Laleau’s train of “prestige” has long ran out of steam. Conformist and button-down “technocrat,” Laleau will soon find himself facing a steep mountain to climb. Money of course is always tempting, especially in a country such as Haiti. A 2 to 3 months’ paycheck will definitely have an impact. But for how long? How many students who will practically benefit from this? Don’t try to ask Wilson Laleau? He could only guess the answer. He is only a puppeteer, dancing to the tune of his masters: K-Plume and Sweet Micky; and all of this, of course, will have to be remote-controlled by a domineering, overbearing iron lady—Madame La Première Dame, Sonia Martelly.
This is an orchestrated campaign, clumsily executed as Papa Loco is desperately trying to rule from behind. He is up for reelection, but the Haitian constitution does not allow a two-consecutive term. He is now betting on the crazies to achieve his goal: Staying out of jail. His Duvalierist arrogance has gone dormant. He is reportedly to have already created a myriad of obscure political parties swamped by dubious elements to fill the seats vacated by the defunct Parliament.
Believe it or not, Sweet Micky is also reportedly to have managed to stuff under his belt some unusual allies of convenience. Chief among them is former rubberstamp president, René Preval. Micky is trying hard to come out swinging.
The enemies of the people are hard at work. They’re in it to win it, they say. But it is too late. Their army of boogeymen has just halted its march toward the unknown, stationing on the wrong side of the riverbank. Its rank-and-file has been substantially dwindled, not fit to win any battle, let alone—the war. Bill Clinton cannot come to the rescue. These days, he has much bigger fish to fry, and he’s walking a thin blue line with Hillary’s second presidential bid—something Haiti can practically derail.
On the eve of the 100th anniversary of foreign domination in Haiti, a new awakening looms on the horizon. Enough is enough. There is now a new and unspoken consensus among the masses in Haiti that the time to take their country back from their nemeses is now or never. But Sweet Micky is no maximalist. He also has an eye slanted east, toward the DR. If all fail in Haiti, he can still sneak through in the still of the night, wading across the Massacre River where 30,000 Haitians were slaughtered in 1938 by Dominican fascist Rafael Leonidas Trujillo. In any event, the crazies are all but doomed.
Aslo see: The Crazies are back!
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