Posted by: Scribble | 15/07/2008

Teen on a Tractor

The ‘Other’ is threatening to exchange his sick bed for the flower beds.  He thinks he can manage to sit astride the mower and tackle the grass.  He has been thinking this for a few days though so it may not happen.  It is of course better than allowing the Teen to ‘mow the grass’ for this is a euphemism for race around the garden at full speed, crunching through the gears and circling the flower beds and trees on two wheels in a fashion more suited to Brands Hatch.  The tractor mower practically groans and begs for mercy when the Terrible Teen puts it through it’s paces.  It is after all, ten years old now, it’s blades thin, it’s joints creaky, it’s lights a little short sighted and batteries in need of a recharge.

But all this does not deter the Teen.  As he helpfully offers to take over from his father, I shout the usual instructions of use, my voice drowned by the sound of high revs and protesting gears and watch as he disappears around the corner, just missing a chicken diving for the safety of the green house. I sigh to myself.  I notice that despite warnings not to attempt to mow the tiny strip of grass that lies between the pond and the hedge at the back of the garden, he, knowing best of course, inches his way through none the less.  I wince as I see one back wheel sinking into the soft marshey edge of the water, the mower leaning at a precarious angle and exhale in relief when he guns the throttle and tears out of danger.  Luck really does favour the brave or the downright stupid.

The Other, seeing his half hearted attempts to be useful are no longer necessary, takes himself back to bed leaving me to oversee the activity.  “Tell him not to go too near the edge over by the ‘heap’, there are stones there that fly up and damage the blades” he tells me, knowing full well that we have said this before and that the Teen has a mind of his own.  “You tell him – firmly, for a change” I say, knowing this is also a waste of breath.  Firm has never been much of a feature of this particular father.  I know it, the Teen knows it.  We are lucky, that on the whole, the Teen is good natured and not usually out to cause trouble.

“I’ve done it” the Teen tells me later on, “not a bad job is it”?

I survey the garden with a critical eye.

“6/10 – could do better,” I say mimicking his teachers.

“Muuuum”’!

Posted by: Scribble | 15/07/2008

A Weak Society

I’ve been thinking lately about the propensity for the ‘average man in the street’ to go along with government policies that limit individual freedom in all sorts of ways.  The 42 day detention is a recent example.  When asked, responses range from, “well, if the government think it’s necessary to lock them up for 42 days, then I think they should.” Or, “six weeks –   lock them up for six years if they like, throw away the key!”  And, “The government are only trying to protect us from terrorism.” 

 

A friend recently mentioned the concept of brainwashing by the television.  This is something that many people casually agree happens but usually have in mind, subtle brainwashing in advertising by companies trying to persuade people to buy their products.   What perhaps they have not considered is other forms of subconscious or even, unconscious manipulation that occurs through television and other media.  The merit for this is usually on the grounds of Health and Safety that seeks to eliminate all risk in our lives.

 

For example, for a long time now, certain types of programmes are preceded with a standard warning along the lines, “Warning.  Do not try this at home.  Events in this film are performed by fully trained professionals.  Do not attempt to recreate this at home.”

 

 Warnings also appear tagged onto the end of news items.  So the tragic story about a boy who drowned while canoeing along a fast flowing river will be accompanied by a rescue ‘professional’ telling the public that they should stay away from the dangers of such an action.  “My advice to the public would be, if you are considering going out in a small boat, make sure you only enter water that has clear signs pronouncing it safe and approved by the River Authority.”

 

And, “if you are thinking of having a bonfire party this year, make sure that you pay attention to instructions on fireworks.  Fireworks are dangerous.  Each year hundreds of people end up in casualty with severe injuries.  Keep children well away from fire and have a bucket of water nearby.  There are plenty of public displays you can go to which may be a safer option.”  And so on.

 

Even the weather forecasters are happy to tell us what to do and say things like,  “wrap up warmly today, a cold spell is approaching”  or in summer, “and don’t forget to put on plenty of sun screen today, we have a high of around 27 degrees, not much cloud cover so watch out, remember cover up!” 

 

The news has been thoroughly ‘dumbed’ down and includes items that could not be considered serious news.  For some reason we have regular updates on what is going on in the Big Brother household or Madonna’s marriage troubles, as if, alongside news of murders and torture in Zimbabwe or the Iraq/Afghanistan war, this is really that important or appropriate.  News casters and presenters have adopted a more cosy approach and have become bland in the process, two dimensional almost and language has been overly simplified.

 

There is also an increasing amount of public service announcements. Many are about drink, drugs and smoking, some are warnings against speeding and the consequences of being caught. These tend to use graphic images of seedy drug takers, smokers glued to oxygen tanks or children being run over.   

 

In addition to all this we now have a multitude of television programmes that tell us what to wear, what to eat, how to cook, how to decorate our homes until the character is beaten out of them and they all look the same and how to rearrange our gardens. We are told where to go on holiday or where not to and what perils may be lurking abroad.  There are dozens of life changing programs too that show us how to lose weight, take up exercise, cut up our faces and bits we don’t like and generally make ourselves over.  We are given advice about what is good for us, what is not, how much we should drink or not, how to read labels on food and told organic is best until organic proves to be less organic and more of an expensive con.  Even man’s best friend, the dog, has come under fire as we are told that we should not have them on our beds.  They are likely to have fleas and carry diseases we could catch by having them in close proximity.

 

Almost daily we are reminded that we are too feeble to take any risks in life and anything considered dangerous is frowned on by those that boss us all about.  Newspapers carry stories of things that have been banned on grounds of Health and Safety like the fireman’s pole considered to present a risk to hands (chaffing) or falls.  Hanging baskets came under threat in case old lamp posts should fall under the weight.  Fire extinguishers were deemed dangerous unless used by ‘trained professionals’ as if anyone is going to wait for one of those when a fire breaks out.  Metal bolts holding up Christmas lights must be individually checked.  Conker trees are being felled so as to avoid falling conkers hitting people on the head.  The list is endless. And all the while, we are watched and surveyed by an army of CCTV cameras to keep us all in check and an army of police cum social workers are on hand to rush out should we not do as we are told.  Computers now store increasing amounts of DNA and fingerprints to keep tabs on us all.

 

A carefree childhood is almost a thing of the past.  Endless Health and safety regulations seek to remove all risk to children.  No longer allowed to climb trees, ride bikes without safety equipment, go into a swimming pool without an adult, play conkers or hop scotch,  throw paper aeroplanes, read books with fire breathing dragons, or anything else deemed dangerously influential. They are missing out on the simple pleasures of being young .  The message by and large is that being outside is fraught with danger, (sun is too hot, paedophiles may get you) so children now spend  at least 20% of their time in front of one screen or another, TV, computers, game consoles and only about 10% walk to school.

 

Worse, should your child turn up at school with a graze or two and a bruise on her elbow, you could have a visit from a government snoop who may think you are abusing your child. Parents, who carefully and conscientiously  give their child the chance to take reasonable risks and assess what is dangerous in life, like letting them use a penknife, light a fire, ride a bike, swim in a lake, and thereby learn from experience, could find themselves being accused of neglect or worse.

 

It is not therefore surprising that the population has succumbed and been influenced into an attitude that would have seemed pathetic and weedy not so many years ago. We are being subconsciously trained to do as we are told and seem happy to trot out familiar sound bites picked up by politians with an agenda, without any desire to question them. A continued onslaught of repetitive messages, however innocuous they seem, has changed a generation from the sort of stoicism and bravery that won two world wars to a population that blindly accepts being told how to live their lives from cradle to grave by an almighty nanny state and its lapdog –  the great state broadcaster and brain-washer- television.

Posted by: Scribble | 14/07/2008

Inane

“What d’you think about when you’re on your own, like in the car or somewhere”? I ask my sister as we hang out her washing that always smells so much nicer than my own.

“What d’you mean, what do I think about”, she responds as if I’ve gone a bit funny in the head.

“Well, what goes through your head, when you’re driving say, I mean is your head empty or do you let thoughts just appear from nowhere, or d’you think specific things”? I ask, warming to my theme.

“I dunno know, stuff” she says, looking at me quizzically as she tries to find the other half of a lone sock.

“What stuff then”?, I press her, curious.

“Stuff like, what I’m doing for dinner, stuff about work, The Evil Outlaw, if she’s happened to annoy me, you know – stuff”

“Ever think of nothing”, I ask.

“How would I know if it was nothing – if it was nothing”, she looks at me, eyebrows raised.

“Um, good point”, I say thoughtfully.

“So what do you think about then”? She turns the question to me.

“Well, I think about, how I might write stuff down, if asked that is, which is completely unlikely. I mull over, how I might describe a conversation such as this one, you know…”

“Well go on then.  Have a go, you’re always TALKING about writing, why don’t you give it a try”.

“Yea, think I will”.

We carry the empty basket to the house, in companionable silence.  I wonder what she’s thinking!

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