It's hard to be correct all the time these days. There's evidence coming at you from all ends and sides that the New World our elite have created for us to enjoy (though not them; they prefer to stand apart from it) isn't really much fun.
No, I'm not using the word fun here as in laughter and jollity, but fun as in something you are made to do and told you have to get pleasure from. Like having some of the world's most unpleasant beings coming to live in your town and pretending their culture and ways are enhancing your life even if your life now prevents you from going out at night alone, or having to say that this practice is perfectly normal and acceptable when it doesn't seem that way at all and never did for most of your life, or acknowledging you said a 'man' word when you really meant 'person' because someone will be offended you didn't think a manhole cover in the street was capable of being accessed by a fully-trained, health-and-safety aware and equally regarded person-without-gender-issues.
But even though you see this, even though some of it makes you worry about how we ended up like this, you keep your mouth shut. You have been encouraged or trained or ordered not to show any emotion here. You won't be liked and can have unpleasant labels attached to you, even if the people doing the labelling (as discussed in these blogs before) stoutly maintain they don't label people.
It isn't easy being alive today and walking on eggshells all the time. Every so often, despite your lightness of foot and deft shuffling to a new position, some precious eggshells will get broken. Offence, as they say, cannot be given but it can and will be taken. More so should you make the error of forgetting your place in the 'Great Scheme Of Equality.'
But despite all the honeyed-words (parsnip-buttering fine words possibly, as earlier stated in this blog) you are subjected to and indeed are required to echo, you aren't always thinking what you are supposed to be saying. Wearing the appropriate faint, satisfied smile too will help here, even if your patience is being strained a little.
For instance, let's say some low-life imported into this country or arriving under the fluttering flag of European unity, spits on the street in front of you. No reason, it's just how it is with him. Yep, before you ask, that happened to me once while walking back from the paper shop one Sunday morning. The poor man who –– despite all the positive reinforcing of his attitudes and our multi-cultural bending over to make him feel loved –– may have thought all English people were turds (while I may be, I cannot speak for all the others) and he clearly thought I deserved to be spat towards if not actually at.
He may not of course have liked how I had my hair combed that morning, or disliked the shade of my trousers. He may, in some culturally-rich way, have been expressing in actions what many words would take to explain to me, though by the look of him I don't think he spoke much English so he went for the best option of a picture is worth a thousand words. No make that a lot of saliva is worth a thousand words. Oh well, I am confident there will be a free evening course available to help him in his English debating skills.
I have no doubt the spitter felt better and perhaps ran home to tell his mates how he had put this strange, paper-reading man in his place with a simple but heartfelt gesture. I however merely stepped over his small puddle of spit and carried on, smiling gently and keeping my mouth shut.
Note I did not say anything that would fracture the delicate balance of social harmony insisted on by our betters. I admit I was carrying (I think) The Sunday Times and this man may well have been an Observer reader and naturally wanted to express his distaste for my reading choice. Well, that would be freedom of speech, or freedom of spit, as we all love these days (even if we can't say anything freely, we can say we have freedom of speech.)
We are, we must remind ourselves, free to say what we want except when it causes strife, division, hatred and a general non-love for others. Thus I kept my mouth shut and while I may have wished this man had kept his beard-surrounded mouth shut too please note I did not say it.
I breezed on my way, leaving him from what I could see to try and wipe the spit from his beard where alas he had dribbled. I know I should have rushed to him with my hankie and offered to wipe his chin for him, but for some reason I was eager to get home and read the latest heart-felt pleas from our leaders to be nice to all.
But then, I have much to learn though I am sure our elite will teach me how, or instruct others to teach me at great taxpayer expense as they sit in their taxpayer-funded ivory towers.
I will say though that a certain thought crossed my mind as I lightly stepped over the expression of this man's multi-cultural affection for me. Yes, very bad on my part. While we are championing the use of Thought Police to make sure we think correctly and we all not saying anything, they currently have a small problem with reading all thoughts. I am sure they are working on how to overcome this and once successful, I will have to watch my thoughts too. Happily watch them, and not harbour any negative views as I do so.
For now, I am free to reflect on my one uncharitable thought towards this decent, upright human being and berate myself for even having the audacity to allow those naughty impulses to briefly flicker across my brain.
It will all get better, I am sure, because I have been told to think it will.
No comments:
Post a Comment