SoMe Pressure

Does it feel like your attention span is waning these days? Like, it's becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with news coverage of not just the local, anymore, but the global? And, every minute of the day is prime time? And, does it feel like, because people are now interacting with and listening to you, you have to post smarter/achieve more? If you've answered yes to these questions, know that you are not alone. That may or may not be comforting.

There is a constant, nay, continuous demand for our attention from one source or another. I need not go on about the plethora of these sources - online and offline. What I would like to focus on a bit is that demand from Social Media. (Of course, this only works if you do, in fact, use at least one SoMe tool.) And, the attention-grabbing is one thing. But, look at what eats up your attention. It may be something that is of little interest to you, but you still spend a little time to read it or listen to it - just because it's there. Those subjects that are of much interest to you? Those are the blood suckers. And, there's a very real pressure that comes with participating in these media on matters that are of high interest. Most people like to play cool and invincible. Yeeeaah. I gave that up - the little that I had of it - a long time ago. Now, I'm just the perfect human being - flawed, blessed and highly flavoured. Chocolat.

I realized recently, as I scrolled though my Twitter timeline, I was beginning to feel "a way." (That's a legit Jamaican description of feeling deeply offended/shunned/disregarded... Context matters to the definition.) I have been writing for a while and have made the distinction between a writer and a published writer. But, man. Reading about some of the achievements of those who've had their works published, started to make me feel like a small fish in a pond, catching a glimpse of the big ones in the sea of published writers. Sure, there is much to learn from writers on my TL. A lot more to (a) fuel my anxiety and impatience - what is taking me so long? And (b) wonder why some folks are writing what I'm already writing - albeit in secret. I then remembered a quotation attributed to Abraham Lincoln: “Hypocrite: The man who murdered his parents, and then pleaded for mercy on the grounds that he was an orphan.” No one had forced me to follow them. And, I could, after all, choose not to follow any more writers.

Or, I could do what I did when that feeling kicked in: Remember why I write.

That did it for me, really: #writeorsuffocate. I also write to "use it all up" in pleasing my Creator. I write a blog; novellas; short stories and poems. It will all come together. There is no need for me to look around at others. As Joyce Carol Oates put it: "Don’t be discouraged! Don’t cast sidelong glances and compare yourself to others among your peers! (Writing is not a race. No one really ‘wins.’ The satisfaction is in the effort, and rarely in the consequent rewards, if there are any.) And again, write your heart out." Of course, this assurance goes for whatever your area of interest. You do what you do when you do it - and how. Use it all up.

Still haven't got the attention thing down yet, though, while on, say, Twitter. All kinds of news from all over the world come at you in a single scroll. What stands out sometimes is the range of emotions I can go through in one move of my thumb. Somebody won something; a writing tip; someone was killed; a quotation about kindness; a pic of a cute dog... It takes a concious effort to stick to what you went there for. If you're busy doing something else and are just "popping in for a bit"? All the best with that. I grabbed the following from a Monk episode from IMDB. It's kinda long, but, it's the scene that came to mind when I thought of "range of emotions." One of my favourite scenes, by the way. :-)

MONK. Season 5 Episode 7 "Mr. Monk Gets a New Shrink" Writers: Andy Breckman and Hy Conrad

Dr. Kroger questions his abilities after a patient becomes the prime suspect in a murder. He decides to retire but a distressed Monk is convinced someone else is responsible.

Dr. Charlie Kroger: Adrian, I cannot continue to practice anymore after today. The police think that one of my patients killed Teresa Mueller. I should have seen it coming. I didn't; I missed it. This is all my fault. 
Adrian Monk: This isn't happening. This can't be happening. 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: Adrian, I promise you I'll get you another doctor. I'll call you next week. 
Adrian Monk: Okay! So it's not true! You're not retiring! I mean, you can't because... He can't retire... 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: [to Natalie] This is step one in the grieving process: denial. 
Adrian Monk: Damn you, Charles! Damn you to hell! I hate you. I hate you! You are dead to me. 
Natalie Teeger: That's not denial. 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: No, step two, that's anger. 
Adrian Monk: Okay. Okay, we're all adults here. We can work this out. I can hire you full time, all right? Put you on payroll. 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: This is step three: bargaining. It usually doesn't go around this quickly. 
Adrian Monk: Why me? Why is it always me? Everybody's always leaving me. 
Natalie Teeger: Depression? 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: Yeah. 
Adrian Monk: This can't go on. I mean, it's just too much. Okay, you're right. It's not the end of the world. I'll just have to find another doctor. I owe you so much. Thanks to you, I think I can get past this. Thanks, doc. 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: And finally, acceptance. 
Natalie Teeger: Thank God that's over. 
Adrian Monk: He can't retire! The man can't quit because he's not a quitter. 
Natalie Teeger: Wait, what's going on? 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: I don't know. It's like he's starting all over again, like he's in a loop. 
Adrian Monk: I hate you for this, Kroger! You are dead to me! You understand me? Dead! 
Dr. Charlie Kroger: I really should be heading home. 

Claudia 

www.cyopro.com

www.twitter.com/cyopro

Writing For A Cause

There must be many, many people all over the world who have experienced some feeling of strong emotion and simply wanted to shout what they were feeling from a roof top. Many. To be more accurate, I'd dare say, most. And, that emotional feeling may range anywhere from getting a fantastic end-of-year school report to being wronged by a conniving co-worker (worse, boss). It may have come from having your heart broken by the love of your life and you wanted to let everyone - including his mother - know that the things he told them about you in the end that made you seem all crazy and clingy were not true and you just want to set the record straight because he must have left out the part where he... Oh! Umm, I digress.

Ahh, yes. That elusive roof top. Until now! For, behold, dear reader, Social Media.

As I thought about the series of posts for this month (don't hold me to it; sometimes it pops into my head as a series and sometimes it doesn't), I imagined that there was room for a three-fer: making your mark on life through postings/writings; how social media is that roof top from which we shout and scream and show off and gwaan bad / get on bad, and, finally, how there are those among us who write for a cause - whether political, educational, inspirational, etc.

As I pondered "Social Media As Roof Top", however...wait. Look at that. SMART. Sheer buck-up. And, oh the irony. Anyway, I couldn't help but think how neatly it fit. I don't think I have to expound on the idea. Once you make the link, you'll get it. All that's needed is to make sure that the person or persons you'd like to shout at (not to be confused with giving a shout out to) are no more than, say, two degrees of separation. And, nothing shouts "disclaimer" like a subtext/subtweet or two.

So, without the need to carry on with that point and beat the dead horse to glue, I'm moving to that last bit - and save the next post for something related.

Many write for any of the afore-mentioned (or other) causes. Of course, there's no way I get to read all these blogs. But, now and again, whether because of my job or someone sends me a link or something pops up on my Twitter timeline or the al-things-to-all-people Yahoo!, I get wind of some pretty interesting and insightful material. Remember the quote attributed to Plato? "Wise men speak because they have something to say; Fools because they have to say something." Yeah, it's like that. The dedication and thought applied is evident in these writing. It is clear that these folks are here to help; to make you think; to inspire; to encourage and so on. What usually happens is that once you start tuning in to a particular blogger, you tend to look forward to his/her material. And, that's another aspect of that conscious writing - the discipline to keep at it. Of course, life happens. But, generally speaking, they can be relied upon for some good work.

(I got wind from @MizDurie - whose politically provocative blog is at www.facebook.com/ThinkJamaica - that May 23, (Labour Day in Jamaica), will be recognized by many Jamaican bloggers and social media peeps as Jamaica Blog Day - Blog Action Day. According to @JaBlogDay, it will be "focused on police and security forces abuse in Ja."  For the post on the 28th, I hope to provide links to those bloggers who participated in the event.)

Shout out to all you bloggers who do good work! We're learning from you. I'm learning from you. For all you've done so far, thank you.



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Hot Chocolate

The year 2011 is coming quickly to a close...yadda yadda yawn.

I'd planned to share a third fave for this third December post.  But, at some point today, I decided to make a more personal one about what 2011 was for me.  Long and short, there were way more good times than bad.  There were only two things I would've done different.  But, learned that God has a way of giving me beauty for ashes; making something beautiful out of ugly.

Now for the other stuff: I visited Jamaica; turned for-ty; finished a play; came back and bought a house; had a kind o' surgery done - the attending nurse had said that post-op was gonna "hurt like a b*tch!"  That it did.  For months!  Experienced healing; had a crush; was crushed upon - mutually exclusive; crushes crashed - not into each other; did a photo shoot; wrote a novel; was told I was "a hot chocolate."  Aaaaand hosted my first Christmas family dinner at the new place.  Blessings galore!  Thank You, God.

Btw, don't want the ugly from the (almost) past year to go with you into the new?  Then...let go.

Thanks for sticking around and checking out this blog for 2011.  Thanks for supporting me as I write "to save my life." #writeorsuffocate. Yeeeaah, I know this is one of the shorter posts.  Much more to say about my year in review but, like I said last year, my prayer journal gets it all. ;-)


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

NaNoWriMo and me

It's important to me to keep my blog appointments - especially when I have something to say. And that's the only reason I'm doing this at 11:20PM. I have a few ideas that I've penciled in my handy notebook. However, I believe a better time to address any of them, would be in the next post - all being well.

Until November 30, 2010, I will remain caught up in the NaNoWriMo challenge. Just a couple more days to go; just a few thousand words to go. I've sent my mom and a sis a first-read copy. Hmm. Think I might put a few of those ideas on ice and, in the next post, talk about the amazing and ability-discovering adventure that this novel-writing challenge has turned out to be!

My! Who would've thunk it?


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

The gawking, the stalking and the (non) talking: Confessions of a torn Facebook user

As promised, in this entry, I’ll share my take on Facebook and why I was only sorta on it. And this is as of right now. Hey, you never know! (Was just about to put a hashtag on that #YouNeverKnow – then I remembered where I was.) My feelings toward it might just change by next Tuesday. (Don’t ask!)

Well, there’s a good place to start. Feelings. I dare say, too many of mine were being engaged in the idea of making “Facebook friends” (quotation marks intentional) and connections. One of my girlfriends, whom I’ve known for more than 25 years, heard a smidgen of my angst the other day and summed it up quite nicely, “You are too weird!” All I could say was, “Yeeaaah.”

I joined Facebook sometime in early 2007, I think. My Facebook friends count now? About 46ish – in any case, it’s under 50. Essentially, three groups comprise the count – High School Alma Mater; the Alma Mater where I did my BA and the Alma Mater where I did my MA. The remaining connections are family, relatives and a few offline friends I’ve known since childhood.


THE GAWKING
I get that many people are interested in looking at pics of friends from Adam. The whole picture/thousand words thing does make sense. And it is fun to look and reminisce and all that. No substitute for going way back and enjoying it together. What I don’t get, though, is the gawking. People connect with others and simply comb through their pictures (yes, ‘cause they let ‘em!) clicking through album after album, without making a single comment. How do I know this? I found myself doing it. And I am 100% sure I’m not the only one who’s dunnit. And my doing that scared me that I could be that person – taking a kind of warped interest in the life of someone whom I hadn’t talked with in ages. Warped, because, after the gawking, I’d have no inclination, whatsoever, to exchange even two words! #EverGetThat? Not to mention my "Wait! Who's that living my life?" stares. Ouch! That musta hurt God's feelings.

I stopped gawking.


THE STALKING
Round about September of 2009, when I had about 50-something Facebook friends, I posted a kind note on my wall to inform that I was going to unfriend (or de-friend – whatever the term I used) a few people. I explained that I found we didn’t talk much and whenever I was on Facebook, I’d feel like I was stalking (!)

‘Cause I did feel that way, man!

I’d go on and check their walls and comments and what-not. I’d catch-up with their lives – as much as they cared to share – tracking their moves (?!) I mean, what was the point? Surely, there had to be more than that to Facebook. (Occasionally, one or two persons would say hi – they never gave up on me.) I convinced myself that I wasn’t using the space to its fullest potential; wasn’t making the best use of it at all. So, with plans to return after appointing an FAM (Facebook Account Manager – yeah), I took a hiatus. I recall one person saying that they (the un/de-friended) really weren’t going to like it (she wasn’t one of them). But, alas! The deed was done. I also opened my mind to the probability that some of those who’d remained would probably un/de-friend me. I was prepared.

Long after, I’d pop in – rarely – to post a vid I liked or an article I thought was worth sharing. That kinda thing.


THE NON-TALKING
I just wondered why folks would send invitations, and then not talk to me. Couldn’t see through that. Was an Facebook friend not a friend? Don’t friends talk to each other? Another aspect was just as puzzling. Friend request when we barely say hello offline? Even though we might cross paths every so often?

It took me a while to get it. Facebook friends are not necessarily friends, per se. No deep analysis required. They may be friends; associates; colleagues; someone you met once; third cousin twice removed; friend of a friend of a friend – you catch my drift. (I just recently caught that drift.)

Even though we had connected – after years and years of not knowing what each other had been up to; where each other’s beliefs now lie and so on – what we cared to share would, clearly, not tell the whole story. And the truth is that we really might not have much in common after all! Really might not have anything of such substance to glue a decent conversation together. To my mind, that explained a lot! That’s why we weren’t talking!

“Yes, Claudia,” you say. “That there is one of the mischiefs that Facebook tries to cure.” Get reacquainted and what not. I say fine, but, am I the only one who gets even a little bit queasy about reconnecting with long time friends/folks?

The big omission in all this? That thing that you’ve been waiting for me to admit? I wasn’t initiating m/any conversations myself. Of course, I’d go on about not talking and so on, but hardly ever said hello.


OUT OF HIATUS
Before coming out of hiatus, I got into Twitter more (@cyopro - see previous post for how that all went down.) I then permitted the app to run on Facebook and, Voila! I was instantly increasing posts and presence on Facebook! And, little by little (never “mis-underestimate” the power of baby steps), a few friends began to take note and the conversations began to grow more frequent. Then, a few old-new friends connected, and I accepted – without the level of queasiness I used to experience. (I tell you. Waaay too much thought.) As I lightened up a bit, for some areas, I started permitting “friends of friends” and, cautiously, in others, “everyone”! Mmhm! We’re cookin’ now!


ONLINE AND OFFLINE OPPOSITION
As with any online social network space, participation in Facebook highlights a kind of opposition, if you will, between online and offline realities. Many construct this virtual world and become convinced that it is “just like real life”. Nuh-uh! The personal pics and vids shared are, for the most part, pleasant. Indeed, they capture the moments of beauty. But, how many folks post pics and articles of ugly details of what’s happening to “others” in other countries or wherever and do/would do the same detailing the awful moments of their own lives? They may personally experience brutal and ugly moments, but those are not gonna make it to Facebook; not even in private albums. And even if some folks talk about it, sorta, they mightn’t touch the matter directly but kinda talk around it.

Offline, attention and popularity may wane; the 500 friends mightn’t show up at the barbecue (love this "Throw'd TV" clip). I see it as a space where folks enter, do stuff, then leave. I don’t know anyone who is “always on” Facebook, but I’ve heard that "they walk among us." And when the "book" is closed? When the site goes down at any time? I imagine there are shrieks of horror heard around the world. And, just imagine, those shriekers have to talk to other people now? Either that or scream at the computer until it gets back up. Not to worry. These addicts, well, they haven't lost their minds. They have them backed up on Facebook. Good thing FB allows you a zip file of your FB life - according to that site and a few others.


HEARING VOICES
As one of my sisters put it, when you get into Facebook, it’s like entering a huge space where everybody’s chatting and you’re hearing all these voices and some are talking with you and others are within earshot so you join in, if you feel like it, and you may be interrupted by someone who wants to chat when you’re trying to complete a move or a thought but, it’s organic and, like Hammy the speedy squirrel said in “Over the Hedge”: “It never ends!!!”

So, I’m in. Back. On. Into. On top of… (whatever) Facebook. I understand that there’s so much more to Facebook – groups, organizations’ pages etc. – a whole ‘nother’ world I have yet to explore. No, I don’t have a FAM – it’s just me. As I proceed, however, I’m ever careful. And, I’d ask you to exercise due care in building your online presence as well. To parody that Ontario Lottery and Gaming ad (and, I don’t play the lottery; I just think it’s a neat line): “Know your limit. Post within it.”


AND HOW DID THAT MAKE ME FEEL?
Last week, a former CFB Trenton Commander was sentenced to life with no possibility of parole for 25 years. I honestly don’t want to repeat the atrocities and perversions he committed. I’ve thought about posting a link…OK. Here’s one.

For a while, as this unfolded, I realized that, just given the graphic details that reporters provided, I could only read two accounts. I came to the realization that I did not want these things to be repeated to me over and over and over. Not once did I tune in to a TV news item or special coverage of what was unfolding. It was just too horrible. I read a part of a report after he had been sentenced. I made my last tweets on the subject – no more than two.

The crimes he had committed, the ways in which he had committed them (he pleaded guilty) and the reality that all this was embodied in one person who, on top of it all, held such a prestigious position, made me feel sick. And angry. And awful. So much so that, for a while, I could not get to that place where I could forgive him and have compassion on him. That’s not something that I could reconcile with my Christian beliefs and practice where forgiveness is everything! It eluded me. And, in a way, it still kinda does. But, I’m working on it. Honest.


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Profile updates - preceding the story

Recently, I linked my Twitter account, to this blog and to my Facebook page. To me, this was the logical step, given my new thrust into maintaining presence in the online social networks - for the most part.

Followed, then, that I updated the bio on Twitter; started following a couple more Tweeters (to start) and began giving some serious thought to what I wanted to share in these networks.

There's the story a-lurking in the back of my mind. Actually, I've brought it to the fore and shared it with lil sis. She thinks I should "hurry up and write it."

All this writing and (self-imposed) obligation is keeping me disciplined.

And I need that. For, it has started to "hurt bad enough."


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

"How does a person get to be that way?"

I'm not sure what triggered my move to check Roger Ebert's review of a particular movie. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure of the name of the movie right now, but, that's an aside. What I AM sure of, is that I hit upon a link to Ebert's blog and, well, the next thing you know, I was being drawn into a simply warm, engaging and beautiful piece of writing. The title of the top-most entry caught my eye: "How do they get to be that way?"

See, years ago I read for my degree in English. (They probably should have named the B.A. degree after the name of the department - Literatures in English. Way cool. Anyhow, I digress.) One of the required texts was "Annie John" by Jamaica Kincaid. Of all the lines and quotes and what not in that text, the one that had always stood out for me was this: "How does a person get to be that way?"

Since then, I've used it at every precious opportunity. Precious because, well, thankfully, they have been few and far apart. For there are times, indeed, when you can only shake your head in amazement, as you seriously ponder the phenomenon which you have the pain (usually pain) of beholding. At those times, I simply think it - sometimes out loud. I articulate it to no one in particular and try to situate the world back on its axis.

Of course, occasionally, I, too, am reminded that, well, how should I put this? Stteo, the world doesn't revolve around me. Not everything nor everybody will acquiesce to my every want. (Oh well.) I resort to thinking of how came I to this place? (Another (less-used) bit from "Annie John"?) And, in pretty short order, the answer comes. A quick glance and reflection - usually in chunks - over my close-to-forty years and the answer is clear. I came to this place by virtue of the fact that I have been becoming the me that I am today from the get go. It's all about the journey and the choices I made - and continue to make. For e.g., I chose, from an early age, to make Jesus Christ the centre of my life. That right there explains a humongous amount of the who, what and how I am. I choose to be neat - my place, though small - must be tidy and look, as Mommy says sometimes, "presentable." And, ooh, I dunno how much of it is Monk - the one I love for several reasons, but, least of which is not that I so totally identify with some of his preferences... We shall call them that.

So, when I stumbled (refreshingly) upon Ebert's title, I immediately got to reading. And the more I read, the more I thought about not only mentioning him, and that entry, in this blog, but also about making a link from my blog to his. Now that'd be a first.

While I ponder that, do enjoy Ebert's entry.


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Mother

I'm writing this entry for my mother. I shall be sending the link to my blog to her - the first recipient. There's a country song by someone whom I don't recall just now. Anyway, the line I like is: "And my mom is still my biggest fan."

Celebrated my birthday on the 16th of this month. Spent a few days with family in Ja. Ah! Life. Gotta love it!

Mommy, enjoy!


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

I have wings! (Cee Dubya)

A former co-worker gave me a postcard shortly before we part ways in 2004. On the cover is a cartoon depiction of a girl in a swing, reaching up, hair blowing in the wind. The caption reads: "She always knew she could fly..." On the inside: "...the question remained, "How high?""

Love that.

(Of course, I still have the card.)

I remembered all this the other day after we'd had quite an exciting Saturday morning - March 13, 2010. My little sis telephoned me and greeted me with stteo: "Congratulations! Your letter to the Editor is the Letter of the Day!!!" Well! I could hardly utter a coherent sentence. I had to tap each key, rather slowly, to type the URL. When I finally got to it, there it was: My letter - a thing of beauty.

We went over it again and then some. We analyzed why the Editor had made the "corrections"/amendments he had; why he had omitted a section of a paragraph as well as the very last line ("Maybe he is trying to protect you," she offered). I called Mommy and asked her to get a copy of The Gleaner with my letter of the day in it. She did. And they - she and Daddy - read it again.

My other sisters offered their congrats and support, too. Yes. It was, truly, one of the best days of my life.

For, you see, as I reminded my lil sis, it was encouraging to me as a suffocating writer. She has a sense of how daunted I feel under the weight of knowing that I am a writer but not writing what I should. It's like I mention in the title and sub-title of another blog: The Vital Air: When you're suffocating, all you can think about is breathing.

I am yet to write my book(s). I don't want to go to my grave with it (them) inside me.
I am yet to write the book with Daddy - worse yet.

So, it's been kinda like that. (See very first entry in this blog.) And then, one day, someone thought that what I had written was worth publishing - and worth the distinction, to boot!

My prayer was short: Oh God, thank you for my wings!

Below is a copy of my letter to the Editor of the Jamaican newspaper, The Gleaner. I used the email associated with my pen name, Cee Dubya.

Sidney Bristow was right. "There's no drug like adrenaline!"

********

The Editor, Sir:

When we appoint certain people to be "entrusted with the responsibility to lead the State's anti-corruption, law-enforcement and prosecutorial institutions" (a quote borrowed from another paper), what are the measures that we put in place to ensure that they are up to the mark, and keep up to the mark, in every way, as they carry out their duties?

Apart from periodic reports - which can say anything you want them to - what do we do to make sure that in every nook and cranny, things are being done in acceptable ways? Sure there are audits, but, again, don't you wonder sometimes how some things get 'overlooked'?

As so many have said, repeatedly, Jamaica has sunk into a rather horrific abyss. The taxpayers would welcome suitable persons in whom to repose their trust. However, when we appoint someone in Jamaica to a position of almost unrestrained power - doesn't matter who it is - we have to remember that that person is human. He or she, like anyone else, has to deal with personal demons. There may be psychological or emotional shortcomings which, as we know, are not usually indicated on a résumé or highlighted during an interview or even have been demonstrated in a 'less powerful' job. Being in a position where he or she doesn't have to answer to anyone, per se, is a pretty powerful one. As Lord Acton said in a letter to Bishop Mandel Creighton in 1887: "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men."

Hope is not a method

Does this mean that we leave these positions of almost unlimited power unfilled because each man/woman has his/her set of weaknesses? Do we throw our hands up, appoint someone who seems to fit the bill, and then hope for the best? Again, hope is not a method.

It's a different take on the whole thing, but, I submit that while we look around for these positions of power to be filled, for the best woman or man to be "entrusted with the responsibility to lead the State's anti-corruption, law-enforcement and prosecutorial institutions", we also institute some kind of mandatory psychological (and other relevant) evaluation to assure ourselves that the incumbent remains fit for the job - in every way! No set date, either. Between a year and 18 months, with no more notice than a day or two, the evaluation is done and the taxpayers get to hear the final result. No. This is not to evaluate them to determine sainthood. But, certainly, however it is crafted, it should help to determine whether power is going to the head, and possibly leading to some 'can't touch dis!' behaviour.

Real transparency

Consider the yet-to-be created Independent Commission of Investigations to be led by a commissioner - pretty powerful position. Generally, those are regarded as 'what I say, goes' positions. But, every public position is answerable to someone and, ultimately, the country's taxpayers. A palatable pronouncement is one thing. Behind the closed doors of the organisation, what is taking place and how? Intrusive? Lack of trust? Perhaps, but, we're talking about real, real transparency. Nothing to hinder the work, just enough to keep us assured.

So, it's not just about who is watching the watchman. Deeper still, are we keeping track of whether he or she is embracing delusions of grandeur under the weight of the powerful position? Who questions him/her? Do media even bother? Listen, danger ahead when people in powerful positions become 'media darlings'. The media only become conduits of messages and clearly lose objectivity as they are essentially dictated to, as they dare not carry out 'investigative journalism' which might topple the status quo. And if the media do get wind that something has gone awry, again, do they bother, or do they just leave it be, because everything else seems to be working and 'no better nuh deh a John shop'?

Things like reports and audits do not necessarily capture, for example, the hell of a milieu to which employees are sometimes subjected, as they endure the psychological and emotional onslaughts borne out of the psychological and mental delusions from occupying an 'almighty' position.

I am, etc.,

VERY CONCERNED


********


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro