Welcome : I'm glad you stopped by - stay awhile and ponder...

... with THE Purple Fairy

Tuesday 3 May 2011

It Aint Necessarily So but then again...

I have decided it's cliche day today:  All day I have been assailed by cliches; I have uttered them, listened to them, believed them, disbelieved them.  And still they survive.  Cliches:  trite; overused phrases that are supposed to show that the utterer lacks original thought or imagination.  A very harsh description methinks.

There's been a broad spectrum of stuff for me to consider and such consideration has not been helped by a serious case of the blues and the re-emergence of Mr WorryWorm who has taken root in my upper stomach - again!  Oh! how short a step it is from optimism to pessimism!  In no particular order because, rather oddly, all that I am about to refer to, causes Mr WorryWorm to turn somersaults and my optimism to reach for the tissues. 

I'll start with the news of the death of a chap at the G8 summit in 2009:  An inquest jury has just reached it's conclusion as to the manner of his death and has decided that it was unlawful.  This means that someone, against the rule of the land, caused him to die, deliberately or accidentally.  Any death is a tragedy:  that is a cliche that has been used till tis almost wored out.  The officer who pushed the man about and hit him with a baton said, in his evidence in chief at the coroner's court, that he was sorry if any action he had taken had caused the death;  tonight Scotland Yard issued a statement saying, inter alia, that they were profoundly sorry about the unlawful killing and that the officer in question would be subject to a disciplinary hearing.  Shortly thereafter I heard a 'witness' describe what he had seen on the day:  how the man had 'flown' towards him and landed heavily as a result of being pushed with unreasonable force.    I don't know.  I wasn't there.  I didn't see.  But there are little things about the whole thing that bother me:  why had the officer, a member of an elite squad, been involved, allegedly, in five violent incidents prior to the one which caused the death?  Was he afraid?  Was he 'high' on battle adrenalin?  Had he seen one of his colleagues battered perhaps and was getting his retaliation in first?  I don't know.  What I do know is that this officer is about to be subject to the most severe of discipline procedures.  You think that the discipline procedure at your place of work is tough:  believe me, the standards set for those charged with maintaining the law are a damn sight tougher and rightly so.  Then I heard the conflicting pathology reports, noted the discrepancies and the detailed description of the man's medical status.   At some point I think someone suggested that he was drunk, had a drink problem and/or had a pre-existing heart condition - the suggestion being that his lifestyle may have contributed to his doom.  Almost unnoticed, a reporter commented that the man who died was not a demonstrator; he was simply making his way through the demonstration to his hostel.  Hostel?  What hostel?  Why was he in a hostel?  Why does it sit uneasily with me that he was en route to a hostel?  Why did he attempt to go through a violent demonstration to reach his destination?  His family, being interviewed today, declared their love, their anguish and their visceral need for justice for his lost life.  So, why was he living in a hostel?

Onto another death:  Osama Bin Laden.  For a while I was stunned by the news, not quite sure what my reaction was and I took some time to process it.  I am not American:  I was not related to any who died or were injured in the September 11 tragedies (now there's a overused word:  i.e. it was a tragedy when the ball went into the net).   But I was transfixed in horror as the awfulness was beamed across the world, over and over and over again:  like many people I found it necessary to telephone each and every person I loved to touch base with them and tell them how much I loved them.  The horror was deeply embedded into my soul when I saw and heard the 'celebrations' from representatives of other nations as those poor people fell to their death rather than be consumed in the fires of hell.  I have never been able to erase those pictures from my mind.  Nearly ten years on I watched (in full) President Obama deliver his speech to the Nation.  I was struck by his lack of rhetoric; his lack of triumphalism and realised that those slim shoulders had indeed been dealing with matters a little more important than his place of birth.  It didn't take long for the doubters to voice their difficulties with the situation, irrespective of their nationality:  the manner of the death; the manner of the disposal of the body,  the timing of the announcement, the beneficial bounty to Obama in his next election etc etc etc.....  I wonder what the Saudi is for 'hide yourself in a crowd'?

A third death that has an impact on me is the death of someone I have never met, didn't know and who had only the most tenuous link to me:  a close relative of my BF.  The shattering impact on her has highlighted the impotence of those who stand and care.   The cliches tumbled from me; offers of a safe pair of ears; encouragement to her to acknowledge her own feelings whilst supporting others in their loss and how the next few weeks, with the rituals, were part of the process of healing and that such rituals should be embraced.  I hope that those cliches did not sound hollow because they were heartfelt.  Just because a set of words is not original does not mean they are not sincere.

Then there are the cliches that come with animals:  'I swear, he/she understand everything I say'.  This is a phrase oftimes uttered by your Scribe and ascribed to all and any type of animal.  The fact that it is a cliche does not detract from the truth of the statement.  Every single animal I have ever come into contact with DOES understand that 'Hungies' said in a sing song voice means food; that 'dinkies' means take a drink of water and that 'beddybooks' means time to go to sleepybyes.  MaddyMoo excelled herself today and brought a smile to this rather sad face:  I think I may have mentioned the food word because as I was lighting the fire, she brought to the hearth her empty food dish and dropped it dramatically on the wooden floor in front of me.  I got the message.

Take care, live every moment as if it was THE most important moment in your life, cos, guess what?  it IS.

Love and Peace
THE Purple Fairy xxx

No comments:

Post a Comment