Happy Dominion Day!
“May He have dominion from sea to sea and from the river to the ends of the land… Amen and Amen” – David son of Jesse. Psalm 72.8 (Psalm of Asaph)
“And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth”. – Genesis 1:26
I thought you needed some scriptures so I appended the above excerpts from the Holy Texts. Besides, it looks nice when blog posts start with a quote or passage. Put anything up there, make sure it is in italics and folk will think you’re one enlightened dude. And if you want a female fan following, go for holy quotes. Gets them every time.
And is ‘creepeth’ even a word? I couldn’t find it in the dictionary. That one was from the King James Version of the Bible. You’d think that an English King would know his English. He thought he could turn any verb into a holy verb just by adding ‘eth’ at the end of the infinitive. If a frolicky cherub comes down to me from heaven, what am I supposed ta say? Let’s screweth? Or better still, Babe, do you bloweth?
But lets be charitable. The guy had a lot on his plate, King Jim. A mother like Mary, Queen of Scots and predecessor like Queen Elizabeth-I to live up to. And all those other sundry dukes and earls who were trying to sneak up and assassinate him all the f—in’ time.
Then there was that Guy Fawkes. Not that guy, Fawkes, silly. Guy Fawkes, that was his name. The guy who almost blew up Parliament House around the time King James was just settling down on his throne and beginning to shtup his ladies-in-waiting. It is a wonder Jimmy could even get it up. Trust me, Queen Liz-II has no idea how fortunate she is, to be healthy and alive, at eighty-eight.
Actually the above Bible quotes are there just to illustrate the use of the word ‘dominion’. It suggests that in ancient history a dominion was a territory that a monarch absolutely lorded over. Canada is a dominion of Britain and last Tuesday (July 1) was Dominion Day, more popularly known as Canada Day.
Just like individuals, most countries have a short name that is regularly used and a long name used in formal settings. For example, “India” is formally known as “The Republic of India”. Likewise, for many years “The Dominion of Canada” was used as Canada’s formal name. Now that dominion crap has been dropped.
Being a dominion, Canada is still a constitutional monarchy, meaning that the 88-year old ewe in Buckingham Palace is our monarch and she has an authorized rep in Canada known as the Governor General, whom our Prime Minister reports to and whose lavish lifestyle my tax dollars support.
The meaning of the word ‘dominion’ however has been diluted over the years. Today it is a farcical embarrassment. The Governor General cannot even go to the loo, let alone take a leak, without the PM’s say-so. Maybe he cannot even hold his richard in his hands, let alone screw, unless Stephen Harper tells him to.
But Lizzy-II has enough power left to make me a knight though. I always wanted to be called Sir Spunkybong… hmmm… it sounds so cool, dunnit? I could go to the balls at the Buck Palace, though i have two of my own.
Dominions were colonies that became autonomous states within the British Commonwealth, with their own independent parliament, legislatures and military. Other British dominions are Australia and New Zealand. South Africa was one too but said ‘screw you’ to Britain and became an independent republic in 1961. Ireland too used to be a dominion but it became an independent state in 1937.
Canada, Australia and New Zealand have a vast majority of suckers ready to sing ‘God save the Queen’ and have therefore remained as dominions. All overweight Canadian white middle-aged English-speaking females will grow misty-eyed and cry, ‘awwww’ when they see pictures of little Prince George or Princess Kate. That is in spite of the fact that the Princess and the kid live across an ocean and don’t really give a flying eff about them.
America too has strong ties with members of the dominion but would rather not carry on the farce of kowtowing to the Queen. That’s what I admire about the Americans. They have got the biggest middle fingers of all and don’t care whom they wag them at.
Why am I going on and on about dominions? Who gives a f—k about dominions? All I ever wanted was to tell you about how I spent Canada Day and here I am, going on and on about domif—kinions.
Canada Day was a memorable one this time. I was alone, that Persian woman and the kid who usually live in my house, having left for Persia for the summer. For a good looking guy like me, man about town, the vistas were endless, the possibilities enormous.
But I behaved myself, I hasten to add. Adam and Eve had to share one apple. I was in a bloody orchard in apple pickin’ f—in’ season and the serpents were female, in halter tops. But then, sigh, I used to be a man-o-war but now I’m just a man-o-pause.
Oh yeah, Canada Day. Ah, there was the usual stuff – Parade, BBQs, face-painting, free concert and cake and beer in plastic tumblers, distributed to over 2000 folks (the beer wasn’t free of course).
Interesting thing I noticed at the parade. Almost all the contingents were Middle-Eastern, Asian or Latin American, some immigrants and others probably refugees whose claims for asylum had been accepted, wildly waving their flags, thrilled to be Canadians. The white ‘Canadian’ Canadians were on lawn chairs lining the sidewalk, beer in hand, sweating profusely, their skins ruddy, like ripe tomatoes.
Except for the Irish contingent and the Shriner’s Hospital troupe, I don’t think I saw any other white folk on the asphalt. This, even though 72% of all immigrants in Canada are from six European nations – England, Germany, France, Ireland and Italy. Being Canadian can never be that big a deal for folk who have never lived on the ‘other side’.
I downed my beer and took the metro to my favorite Pakistani eatery, ‘786’. You have to eat there to believe food can be that tasty. I had a couple of nans, one chicken biryani and one Lahori fish and I had them pack a couple more biryanis for home. You’ll be shot if you even utter the word ‘beer’ there. I had tanked up, prior, of course.
The owner is a bearded hulk who looks like a cross between an ISIS and a TET capo. If he had named his joint ‘666’ instead, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid, I tell you. From time to time, grim-faced males walked in, whispered into his ears and left. Either they all suffered from a rare muscle condition (their biceps bulged on the inside) or they were all toting something under their armpits. Shiver. Meanwhile Al Zawahari-2 sized me up menacingly from head to toe when I was placing the order. I made a mental note to check the Lahori fish for IED, prior to ingestion.
I just made it back in time for the Belgium-USA match. And another beer. Is this paradise or what? What a summer this is turning out ta be.