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Shakespeare’s Secret Masterpiece: Did the Bard Pen the King James Bible as His Greatest Prank?

Imagine a world where the greatest literary mind of all time didn’t just write Hamlet or Romeo and Juliet—but secretly crafted the King James Bible, slipping in a cheeky wink to posterity. It's a notion so audacious it feels ripped from a Shakespearean comedy: the Bard, quill in hand, pulling the wool over the eyes of kings, clergy, and history itself. But is there a shred of truth to the tantalising claim that Shakespeare’s finest work—and most devilish jest—was the Holy Book that shaped the English-speaking world? Let’s dive into this literary whodunit with a pint of scepticism and a dash of Elizabethan flair. The King James Bible, unveiled in 1611, stands as a monument of language and faith. Commissioned by King James I, it was the brainchild of a crack team of 47 scholars—learned blokes steeped in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, tasked with forging a definitive English translation. Meanwhile, across the cobbled streets of London, William Shakespeare, born in 1564, was the toast of th...

Ruto's Wage Bill Woes: A Political Farce in Three Acts

William Ruto poses with his newly sworn in CASs. It's all smiles and pageantry until the wage bill comes knocking.

In the grand theatre of Kenyan politics, William Ruto takes centre stage with a performance that rivals Shakespearean comedy – full of twists, turns, and, of course, plenty of absurdity.

The latest act? A baffling display of duplicity disguised as governance, as Ruto grapples with the nation's wage bill like a novice magician attempting to make an elephant disappear. Into a hat.

Picture this: as intern doctors are handed a pay cut that would make Scrooge himself blush – from a meagre Sh200,000 to a paltry Sh70,000 – Ruto, the ringmaster of this circus, unveils his pièce de résistance. Chief Administrative Secretaries (CASs), with their newfound titles, are promised a golden carriage in the form of an Sh8 million car loan and a mortgage fit for royalty, all while the interns are left scraping pennies from the bottom of the wage barrel.

But wait, there's more! Ruto, in a display of verbal acrobatics that would make a contortionist jealous, urges the doctors to tighten their belts while simultaneously loosening the purse strings for his political cronies. It's a masterclass in hypocrisy, delivered with a straight face that would make even the most seasoned poker player blush.

As the spotlight shines on Ruto, the audience can't help but wonder: will he walk the talk on managing the ballooning wage bill, or will he continue to juggle double standards like a clown at a children's birthday party? With the proposed law on CASs awaiting his signature, Ruto finds himself in a tight spot – a spot so tight, it makes a corset feel like sweatpants.

But fear not, dear reader, for Ruto is not alone in this farce.

The Justice and Legal Affairs committee of the National Assembly, in a move worthy of a comedy sketch, initially caps the number of CAS positions, only to backtrack faster than a politician caught in a scandal. It's a slapstick routine that would leave Laurel and Hardy green with envy.

In the end, as Ruto contemplates his next move – to sign or not to sign, that is the question – one thing is clear: the show must go on. And with Ruto at the helm, it promises to be a comedy of errors for the ages, leaving the audience in stitches and the nation scratching its head in disbelief.

So grab your popcorn, dear reader, and settle in for the greatest show on earth – because when it comes to governance, nobody does it quite like William Ruto.

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