Please do lead me astray
The House of Lords is reeling after a certain peer was found
to be ageing rather disgracefully. I have to say that the photo of the said
gentleman reclining after an episode of excess, no doubt, replete with orange
bra, leather jacket and cigarette had me in hysterics. Of course none of this
behaviour should be considered shocking in a world that is becoming more and
more depraved and perverse. One need only read the headlines or see what passes
for justice in some parts of the world. The British establishment may be
bonkers producing a debauched lord but is it truly so hair-raising to discover
what people get up to in their private lives? Naturally the self-righteous brigade is quick to condemn and
pity the poor wife who hardly deserves to be humiliated etc. but there are
usually two culprits responsible for a marriage imploding (or becoming
stronger, for that matter). The whole episode is unfortunate for all concerned
but what truly beggars belief is why expose oneself to potential ridicule and
the destruction of a long career by taking such a big risk? I'm not condemning
or condoning the peer's behaviour. The human condition is a perilous balancing
act between juggling and deceiving, usually oneself. If one wishes to be
somewhere else, be it in a different job or by leaving a partner, surely it is
better to be true to oneself rather than to live a complete lie?
Cecil meets a terrible end
Worldwide contempt has been aimed at the American dentist
who paid handsomely to kill a much-loved African lion named Cecil. Twitter was
all awash with helpful suggestions for doing away with the dentist and making
him pay for his crime. I interjected my two cents' worth by tweeting that maybe
selling licences to kill magnificent wildlife is the real issue here. The
dentist is surely living his own personal hell now but some of that worldwide
vitriol should perhaps be targeted at the powers-that-be who profit grotesquely
from game hunting and the killing of the likes of Cecil. From a philosophical
perspective, anyone who takes pleasure in death is just not all there- nothing
is more pitiful, tragic and the antithesis of what it is to be human than to
purposefully take the life of another for self-gratification.
The Duck Armada
A migrant goose has come to our local lake and is creating
havoc for the resident wild ducks. Much squawking and hissing is to be heard on
occasion – mostly from the goose who seems to want to take over the entire lake
– all 40 kms in diameter of it – and he's only one goose, as if he needs all
that space. The local ducks, which were at it like rabbits in the spring and
now number several dozen, have reached exasperation point. Not only has the
goose made enemies by drowning baby ducks in a bid to enforce his superiority
(and squawking loudly in defiance) but he has generally aggravated the entire
lakeside community of otters, copyus, seagulls, herons and no doubt even the
fish whose hitherto tranquil lake now ripples with discontent. The ducks
however have refused to take abuse of any kind lying down. Most extraordinarily
of all, the ducks have adopted a Ghandi-like stance that horror of horrors is
actually working. Rather than fight aggression with aggression, the ducks have
been seen encircling the goose silently and paddling calmly in unison towards
the Caesar-like fowl. The poor goose feeling overwhelmed by the determined and
suddenly threatening ducks, has taken to paddling away from them as fast as
possible to the other side of the lake. After several days of the silent
paddling treatment, the goose has given up his squawking and ambition of world
dominance. The poor goose has now been totally brainwashed into believing he is
actually a duck. Or has he?
My very personal battle with sadness
I used to treat others with contempt if they showed the
slightest sign of mental weakness. You see, I've never had the luxury of feeling
sorry for myself but in recent years the dilemma of being sad on occasion and
looking towards the future, has gotten harder for me. I don't believe I am
alone in feeling this way and have met many people who echo the following: it's
no fun being alone and childless in your fifties. Some may argue that not all
children make their parents happy and I certainly know that from bitter
experience. And not all lovers/companions offer love without a price to pay in
exchange. People contact me to say they read what I write and maybe I've
managed to impart some of the lessons I learned the hard way. So here's my
advice to women. Don't be like me. Forget feminism and wanting to achieve.
Marry young, have lots of children and grab the sheer bliss of a man paying the
bills. I can assure you that when you enter the last half of your life, you'll
see it as a type of paradise. Put another way, despite having countless
opportunities and doing all the things we want, as we get older, we realise
that all that really makes sense in life is not things, possessions or even
accolades. The circle of life draws inevitably to a close and it is family, a shared
history and the ties that were predestined which reinforce us.
Photo copyright SvD.
