In the rest of the (real) world, life imitates art but, in play-play Trinidad, life imitates parody. Jon Stewart, if he lived here, wouldn’t have to waste time writing material for the Daily Show; he’d just need to wander around with a camera crew. Anywhere he stopped—a police station with drug bust-cocaine in its ceiling, a garbage dump spreading toxic fumes across the capital city, a mosque shattering the peace for miles with a call to prayer louder than a Concorde landing on galvanise—he’d just point the camera in any direction for 22 minutes and head back to Comedy Central with a ready-to-air half-hour episode. I know whereof I speak.
Posted on: Fri, 07 Jun 2013 23:59:04 +0000
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