Pigs

I saw a story in the Sydney Morning Herald this morning and all I could think was surely the police aren't going to rule out foul play without any further investigation?  They have so far suggested he had a medical emergency, such as a heart attack.  You think? 

Have they not seen or read Hannibal where Mason Verger is planning on feeding Doctor Lecter to the piggies in the barn?

The perfect murder or just a tragic accident?

La Laa Laa!

Picture borrowed from here, I had absolutely nothing to do with taking it or making it and credit belong to the originator. 

Temper temper

I have noticed recently people are getting angrier on the roads.

This morning when I was driving the train station I was on the receiving end of driver aggression.  I’m not sure it would classify as road rage.  I was caught in the wrong lane and put my indictor on.  I then slipped into a space that was more than large enough to fit my tiny car into, in front of the white van of a plumber.  I know he was a plumber because his branding was all over the van, along with his phone number.  What happened next was the start of a few minutes of road harassment.

First he lent of his horn for a prolonged period of time.  More than enough to show his displeasure you’d think.

Then he proceeded to tailgate me for a about a kilometre, all the time making hand gestures that would make a sailor blush, of course I just laughed it off and resisted temptation to brake suddenly.

Then, as the road widened to two lanes, I moved over to let him pass, and pass he did, only to rapidly pull back in front of me (sans indication), before speeding off and into the other lane.  Further up the road he pulled back into the left lane without indicating. 

Over now you’d think.  Ohh now…he was now still really angry about my indication and moving front of him over five minutes ago.

As I pulled up level with him again at traffic lights, two lanes away, I caught him make gestures at me from the corner of my eye.  I didn’t feel the need to look at him and give him the satisfaction of screaming at my silently and I really didn’t want him to see me smiling at his ridiculous behaviour.

Of course, I second guessed myself.  Had a cut in too close?  No, I could clearly see his entire front in my side mirror and over my shoulder.  I’d been indicating for at least 20 seconds…which we all know is ages when sat in a traffic queue and I know he’d seen it because we’d got eye contact in the mirror.

Yesterday, in the news was a story about a young woman being followed home before the attacking driver ran over her Dad and threatened them with a knife, all because she merged in front of him.

Are we losing all perspective of what’s a good thing and what’s a bad thing?

An actor gets saved while out kayaking – he gets blasted for pulling a publicity stunt, maybe he really was lost and was genuinely thankful for the save.  While not really news, kinda of feel good story that should be taken for what it is, not vilified.

A woman gets abused so badly online she makes an attempt on her own life after being repeatedly told to ‘go kill herself’ – she gets blasted for bringing it upon herself, she should have just turned off and heeded the old adage of stick and stones.  No, she should be able to conduct her life and work without being abused by hidden cowards with anger issues.

A woman tries to merge on a busy highway, a requirement of getting from A to B in a motor vehicle and experienced countless times a day by hundreds of thousands of drivers around the world - she gets followed home and threatened with a knife

I get abused for changing lanes while indicating and called an ‘attention seeking whore’ for looking for my dog.

I do believe the world really has gone crazy.

Can we all just calm down and look at our behaviour towards others.  We all have a life to lead.  For the most part we try to do so without interfering too much in each others lives.  We’re all busy, your time is worth no less than mine.  We all just want to live peacefully.  In the end it all comes back to what George Bernard Shaw said in 1903:

'Do not do unto others as you would that they should do unto you. Their tastes may not be the same.'    

Karma?

I’ve grown up hearing the names Myra Hindley and Ian Brady. Their images are instantly recognizable to me, just as I could tell you who Pope John Paul II, Clint Eastwood and James Cagney are.
They are famous, or should I say infamous, murderers and rapists from 1960s England.

Like all people of infamy they have been glamourised by some, but for the most part vilified as they rightly deserve. Between them they sexual assaulted and tortured five children (that they admitted and where convicted of, but unofficial numbers are higher) between July 1963 and October 1965. They were convicted in 1966. Before I was even born, but their names often popped up.

In the mid 80s they gained a tremendous amount of press when they returned to scene of their crime to find the graves of their victim, but could only find one.

In 1995, Hindley was in the news again, but this time for her mugshot being used as the basis for a portrait painted by Marcus Harvey using children sized hand prints.

Hindley died at the age of 60 in 2002 in jail.
Today I saw the name Ian Brady in the paper and though, surely he’s dead now, but apparently not.

I read this story and felt hope for the family of Keith Bennett.

It was the last line of the story was what caught my eye and brought out a very rare, extreme, non-humane reaction from me.

‘The tribunal was to consider Brady's application to be transferred to a Scottish prison and be allowed to die. He has been tube-fed since refusing food 12 years ago.’

My immediate reaction to this was ‘Let the f*cker suffer!’
Then I reconsidered.  At 72, is it right that he be allowed to die or should he be forced to continue to suffer?  Does that make his captors as bad as he?

I know say, let him die and maybe, just maybe his name will cease to reoccur in our lives to remind us of the evil he and his girlfriend perpetrated forty odd years ago.

    NOTE: the image was taken form here and the copyright belongs to them, not me.

Train Trip

I was standing on the platform at Merrylands station this morning, waiting for the 7:31 to the City Circle listening to the melodic tones of Camille Saints-Saens, readying myself for the week ahead when the train rounded the corner.

I could see the driver that would take several hundred commuters including myself to destinations from West to East.

He was laughing merrily while talking on a hand-held mobile phone.

Suddenly I was feeling less calm.