Going to the dogs?

Another on and off rainy day, another run in with people who basically aren’t looking or don’t care. This little anecdote finds old Uncle Bill in his traditional stance (Arms folded, standing his ground) receiving a thorough telling off from a member of the General Dyslexic (Post Parking ticket of course).

“You know what’s wrong!” He frothed at me. “This country’s gone to the bloody dogs! You know why? Eh, eh!” The customary angry finger was thrust under my (apparently guilty) nose. “Go on! Why’s the country in the state it’s in!” He stood there, quivering with old rage, seeing me as the symbol of everything that was wrong with his country.
“Don’t know sir.” I responded carefully. An intelligent response will only wind this idiot up even more.
“Of course you bloody don’t!” He railed. “You’re the problem! All of you fucking jobsworths!” Thought so. I breathed a heavy inner sigh. So it’s my fault you took up a parking bay you weren’t entitled to because you were too tight to stump up fifty pence? “You go around making people’s lives a misery, and I bet you get a kick out of it don’t you? Don’t you!” The accusing finger dropped. I stood there saying nothing. Just waiting until the storm appeared to have blown itself out. As his blood pressure seemed to be dropping, I administered the coup de grace.
“Challenge procedure’s on the back of the ticket sir.” I advised gently.
“What?” I’ve really confused him now.
“The instructions on how to challenge the ticket sir. Should you wish to do so. On the back of the ticket. In the envelope. Sir.” I reiterated, not unkindly.
“ARHHH!” He shouted and stomped off back to his vehicle. Job done, another confrontation survived. There are ways of fighting back without actually getting into a fight.

What he said left me thinking. Why is England in the state it’s in? Am I part of the disease or the cure? I like to think it’s the latter. Doing little things like keeping streets running clear (Where I can) and showing the wilful that they cannot get away with being the grit in the ointment of other’s lives. Helping out where I can. Small stuff.

On that subject; albeit a little obliquely, I was reading ‘The Pub Philosopher’ a few days ago and found a link to this article (Why England is rotting) in a Canadian publication. It makes for thought provoking reading.

In perspective; not so very long ago, a couple of decades in my recollection; anyone messing around with the rule of law could expect some fairly rough handling. If you got drunk and stupid, you could expect a night in the cells and a short trip down the steps if you got disrespectful. It was an experience to be avoided and feared (Unless you were too stupid and full of yourself to care). Likewise, anyone messing with the Royal Navy could expect to be summarily blown out of the water. Now everything seems so emasculated. We expect our front line soldiers to be nice. This is crazy. Our Armed Forces and Police were never meant to be social workers. To illustrate by comparison; Dobermans were never really bred to be house pets. They are primarily guard and attack dogs.

In addition there is this asinine view that everything can be micro-managed remotely by non-combatant politicians and the guy on the spot has to refer each command decision upstairs. This way of doing things is quite frankly ludicrous. That ain’t no way to run an army. It’s a sure fire way to lose a war. Does no one read any history around here?

To enlarge; there is an idea that seems to stem from this huge, confused power / guilt / ego / morality trip that much of the left leaning English middle class seems to be hooked on. It’s like some people are trying to out-nice each other in the hope that the meek really will inherit the earth. (They will eventually, after everyone else has finished with it; but not just yet, it’s not their turn this millennium, or the next if human nature is any yardstick.) We are told that we have to stay on some farcical ‘moral high ground’ and ‘save the planet’ (That’s all utter bollocks if you ask me, this planets biosphere could shrug us off as a species without a twitch in it’s orbit and still keep going round the sun – it’s still got billions of years left in it).

England (As a societal entity) seems to have been so busy bending over backwards for so long that now, without turning it’s figurative head, it can make a spirited attempt to kiss it’s own arse as well as everyone else’s. We seem to have missed the middle ground somehow. I know we are no longer a colonial superpower and should accept this; our ancestors did many ‘bad’ things (By today’s standards, perhaps not by theirs). I understand one of my own distant ancestors was hanged for murder – but that doesn’t make me (Or any of my close relatives) a killer. Similarly, it’s no reason to (As a nation) wear sackcloth and ashes for the rest of eternity. What I’m trying to get across is that we as a nation should ‘fess up, learn the lesson and move on without all this guilt. It’s so adolescent and self-indulgently destructive. For want of a better term, it’s just so Chav. Which is half the problem really.