The Gods Must Be Crazy!

The Star (St. Lucia) - - LOCAL - La­neous ByMissy

To any Greek god wor­thy of his tutu, steal­ing to ben­e­fit mankind had to be the mother of all be­tray­als. You can well imag­ine, then, how pissed off Zeus was upon dis­cov­er­ing the Ti­tan Prometheus had stolen fire from Mount Olym­pus and given it to his clay cre­ations, that sorry and use­less lot also known as mankind. Small won­der that Zeus lost it and turned this Ti­tan’s liver into bird feed. Or so the tale goes.

Re­mem­ber how Cronus, fa­ther of all gods, ate most of his off­spring be­cause it was proph­e­sied one of them would grab his throne from un­der him? Imag­ine an almighty god be­ing driven by fear to such de­spi­ca­ble lengths! Or when Deme­ter, God­dess of the Har­vest, for­bade the world from grow­ing any food un­til Hades re­turned her daugh­ter.

My per­sonal favourite ac­count from Greek mythol­ogy cen­tres on the most lev­el­headed war-hun­gry gods: though her jeal­ously knew no bounds, Athena ul­ti­mately made Me­dusa into a de­mon with a ser­pen­tine head. (Quite un­der­stand­ably, when Arachne messed with her man, Athena turned her into a devil spi­der!)

But then by now you must’ve got the mes­sage: what­ever you do, don’t get gods an­gry with you. Oth­er­wise you could end up un­rec­og­niz­able—even in your own mir­ror.

Thank­fully we have just two gods in Saint Lu­cia. Even more thanks for the fact that he re­cently got his nuts caught in a vice and turned quickly into a eu­nuch (some say the loss of his pow­ers had more to do with fire wa­ter).

As for the other, well here’s hop­ing his lat­est cre­ation plays ac­cord­ing to the rules. Oth­er­wise god alone knows what could hap­pen. Think back to 2006, just to re­mind your­self what this god can do.

Alas, some of our next-door sib­lings have been feel­ing his wrath lately. Point­less hav­ing a beach for ev­ery day when this ho­tel god is pissed off with you. Even more re­cent, the lit­tle is­land that is nor­mally swept by crys­tal clear wa­ters along the pris­tine pow­der white shores has now come face to face with the wrath of the ‘God’, and it wasn’t pretty, to say the least.

Some six hun­dred lit­tle crea­tures now have all the time in the world to fig­ure out that lit­tle ques­tion. One thing’s for sure: there are times when com­ing to­gether in union with your fel­low mor­tals can be dis­as­trous. You bin warned!

As much as the twin is­land state may need the rain, I doubt they would want the nose drop with thun­der and light­ning that will come with it. So don’t you dare piss off the hote­lier god. I would rec­om­mend some cheeks be kissed over a glass of Ap­ple­ton rum with two cubes of ice.

We are safe here. Per­haps bet­ter than good! With chil­dren of the ‘god’ steer­ing lit­tle He­len what could pos­si­bly go wrong? At least not for the suc­ceed­ing five years.

Now our sim­ple trib­ute is to keep any va­grants off the beach. He is not really happy right now and I would hate for us to be caught on the naughty list.

For the Gods must be crazy isn’t just a movie. Adios un­til the next time . . .

There are Gods and then there are gods; some with their heads in the clouds and oth­ers in the beach sand.

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