THE LOWDOWN: The bottom line
YOUNG PERSPIRING COLUMNISTS ask how I keep it up. Goat’s milk, I tell them. But there are other tricks of the trade. Like quoting readers who commented favourably on our last column. This supposedly impresses our editors while filling up space.
A few weeks ago I did a piece on living frugally. Early morning call from Bizzy who was in America. Bizzy seems to go into his shell quite a lot nowadays but when he comes out he’s right on the money. We discussed waste, wind power and socks. “Just letting you know Shell bought me a pair last night.”
Next in line was old school friend Eddie Haynes, way out in Tuscon, Arizona. “Another great column… a gem… should be required reading for all…!” (Editors please note.) I must read it myself sometime.
Finally John A. Moore put the icing on the cake: “Twenty-five years and you in run out of humour yet? I hope the supply is endless!” However, I didn’t get to enjoy the cake.
Sister Anne up in Canada cut me down to size. Friend of hers died recently at 78 after living frugally like me. No funeral, they just got together and swapped stories about how cheap he was. “His wife, nearly 93, telling me how wealthy he left her – too old now to enjoy it.” And sis ends: “wonder which of your grands will be getting a Jaguar when grandpa leaves him all the money.”
Ouch, that hurt! I don’t consider myself a miser. I mean, I’m into health food. I don’t buy pork. I buy a whole pig at a time. But if I don’t want to see any other country, sleep in any bed but my own, eat any food but my wife’s, why should I do it? If farming is the hobby I enjoy, shouldn’t I farm?
Which bring us to emancipation. If, after years of emancipation talks and walks with details on the horrors of slavery, all we see is more bitter, disillusioned youths determined not to work for anybody, avoidable diseases and amputations that we walk right into, higher purchase debts and lifestyles we can’t afford, then, in my opinion, emancipation has failed. At least I can look at the items on the merchants’ shelves and not be tempted.
Mental slavery, the Rastaman called it. As long as the former master can tell us how to think, the shackles are still on. Take this homo thing they’re ramming down our throats.
Glasgow Commonwealth Games opening ceremony. John Barrowman, openly gay “she-male” (if that’s the word for a man who has a “husband”) kisses a man on the mouth and they run off together. A blatant intended insult to the Commonwealth nations where homo acts are considered offensive. And illegal in 42 out of 53 of them.
Glasgow, by the way, (aka Glasgay) now claims to be the “new gay capital” expecting to reap a harvest from homoourism. Not surprisingly gays have relegated Phuket in Thailand to number ten.
Come closer home and it’s more “in your face”. British High Commissioner Victoria Dean takes comedian Trevor Eastmond to task for giving a homo joke. “This joke is discriminatory … it suggests there’s something wrong with being a homosexual, something to be ashamed of, something to hide…”
With due respect, lady, the right or wrong of homosexuality is a moral judgement call for each individual, each sovereign nation. Britain took three hundred years to discover that slavery was wrong; transported the population of Diego Garcia en masse from their country around 1970 after killing their dogs in front of them and intimating like treatment for the unwilling; shipped up to 10 000 poor English children to Australia in the 50s and 60s to face forced labour and abuse. And they have the gall to advise us on moral questions?
Jokes abound about crooked lawyers and politicians, dumb blondes and Irish, paedophile priests, pedantic prime ministers, cheap Scots, the Pope and the Queen. Atheists make fun of God and the Virgin Mary.
Pray tell me, High Commissioner Dean, what makes homos so special and untouchable that they can flaunt their lifestyle in our faces? Can brag of their unlimited “disposable” income with one local youth claiming to make $1 000 a night … and we must not comment?
Don’t you think we’ve been bullied long enough?
Richard Hoad is a farmer and social commentator.