24 Jul 2017

And Then, Take Your Pick...

The other evening I concluded that my only personal solution to the obvious madness that’s gripping the country was to surrender for my own mental wellbeing. However, looking at the latest lunacy from the government, that government being, unbelievably, a Conservative government, I’ve decided to rescind my capitulation and join in all the fun and games this new Pythonesque proposal and it’s resultant unintended consequences will no doubt unleash upon one and all of us. Why not? It is a joke, right? Oh, come on! It must be.

Anyhoo, on Saturdays I’m going to reassign myself as a high-flyin’, a-swoopin’ an’ a-divin’ seagull. It may well be me nicking your prawns. I also reserve my legal right to reassign as a duck on Sundays as I like the  colour of their cloths and they spend their time idling around on nice pools in nice villages. Mondays to Fridays I wish to be recognised, by my reassignment, as a farmhouse cat; good hunting, plentiful fresh milk, sleep when you want, outdoors in the shade from the warm summer sun  and, come winter, loaf about on a comfortable old rag-rug in front of a huge open kitchen fire for fur warming.

With this news from our ‘leaders’ it’s comforting to know that there’s nothing of any pressing importance, other than their obvious desire to lose ever more traditional Conservative votes,  that needs the governments undivided attention at this time. As for winning new votes, I really don’t think any of the millions of our newest, bestest ever friends will be on-board with regards to this idea at all. Quite the opposite I’d guess. Looks like a cunningly contrived double whammy then.

Compared to being young, suddenly finding you’re seventy is a bit of a bummer, but as I look around me, boy, am I ever glad I was seventeen way back in a bygone age. One also has to wonder what other madness is stalking us down this rocky road ready to railroad us into yet another new ‘belief’ system. I daren’t look - I’ll turn no more my head... a line a lot like that line comes, most fittingly, from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

Quote;  Samuel T. Coleridge.

Like one, that on a lonely road
Doth walk in fear and dread,
And having once turn'd round, walks on
And turns no more his head:
Because he knows, a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread.

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