Can't we all just get along?

THIS week I felt a bit redundant. On social media in the past view days I have been referred to as an OWM (Old White Male), White, Pale and Stale and as an old man shouting at the clouds.

Shutterstock picture
Shutterstock picture

Don’t get me wrong, I like social media and always aim to give back more than I get. But I was starting to wonder if, like Boxer in Animal Farm, the time had passed when a few kicks from my hooves would have smashed the van taking me to the glue factory to matchwood and now my strength had left me.

Take heart, readers – that thought soon faded away. I found a can of spinach, tore off the lid, gulped it down and watched my muscles grow back with gusto because ‘I yam what I yam and that’s all what I yam’. I’m here and now and as relevant as I always was and unlike Boxer because I can’t accept that the party is always right and if Napoleon (for Napoleon, read the Woke generation) says it’s right it must be right.

Let’s dissect how a certain group of people see me and why they deem me an irrelevant dinosaur.

White. Well, sorry I can’t do much about that. I didn’t choose to be white and I don’t see why I should be judged by the colour of my skin.

Male. Again I had no choice in the matter. I accept I do now have a choice and even though I know I would be judged more sympathetically as a woman, nature has not wired me in that way.

Stale? Well, maybe that’s true. I do feel more comfortable surrounded by the trappings of my youth and I’m far more likely to rely on tried and tested technology such as making my tea in a teapot rather than buying a machine which makes dreamy, whipped coffee mochaccinos. I do, however, have the certainty that my regressive way of living was in its day progressive (first home computer in 1978) and, though now unacceptable, got me through life OK. Is staleness the result of a lifetime of living because all our acquired knowledge automatically becomes useless at the age of 65?

As to shouting at clouds, I fear the younger generation do more of it than I do. On the news this week I’ve seen lots of young people shouting. Some were also throwing bricks at policemen and bicycles at horses. Perhaps my shouting at clouds is better than causing actual criminal damage and hurting people.

You are, by now, wondering where I am going with this? I would say me too, but then I open myself up to being accused of (and I quote) ‘a heinous attempt to appropriate an incredibly serious campaign’ (again, stealing from minorities is historically an OWM speciality).

The last couple of weeks has convinced me that we all need to get on better with everyone else. I know we are more comfortable with people who are most like us, but at the end of the day if we treat others as we wanted to be treated by others then our time on this Earth could be a lot more jolly.

A lot of retrospection after watching just what a shower the human race can be when left to its own devices has made me realise why I have spent years creating my own bubble, my own Utopia, where I can live pretty much the life I want to. As long as Deputy St Pier doesn’t tax me out of it with his regressive super TRP tax, which hits us pensioners hard, then Old Farm will not allow racism, sexism, homophobia, poverty, oppression or genocide and care of the environment will be a major policy.

If we all could just get along with each other, wouldn’t life be so much better?

I asked some questions about the revision to the abortion law, which by the time you read this has probably been adopted. I was told in no uncertain terms that abortion is not a male issue. I asked some questions about Deputy St Pier’s amendment to the sexual offences legislation and was, once again, more politely this time, reminded that as a man my supposed opposition was unacceptable. I say supposed because all I was querying was the governance of making a profound legal change to a law without consultation by amendment. I thought the presumption of guilt being extended to someone charged with a serious sexual offence probably needed a bit of thought.

Are we really so divided that even men and women are in opposing camps?

I have been so lucky in my life. Despite the low points of financial hardship and bereavement, I am very satisfied with how my life has turned out. One of the elements of that was, as much as I rack my brain, I cannot remember ever meeting anyone who was inherently bad. There are bad people but in my experience they are very few and far between.

It is possibly this stroke of luck on my part that makes me shy away from people, especially politicians, who constantly promote negativity and often cause divide for political reasons rather than practical ones.

The problem is that by constantly presenting to us the bleakest of pictures about life on Earth, we are creating that awful place and undermining our belief in humanity. When even women and men feel they are in a battle of the sexes, can we ever have peace?

There are real battles that need to be won and resources devoted to them. For instance almost one child a week in Guernsey suffers some form of sexual abuse. Will the £300,000 a year spending on an equality quango be better spent protecting our children? With limited resources, would we do better ensuring children are safe than making certain no cafe turns away a guide dog (awful though that was)?

I say let’s go back to being a community (remember lockdown?), try to get on with each other and don’t try to fix the real problems in other countries by copying their legislation which hasn’t worked to solve issues we don’t really have.

Life here is never going to be perfect but let’s not make it worse by politicians pedalling negativity, which is bound to get worse now the election will be this year. But, no matter what, I will be doing my utmost to keep life at Old Farm practically perfect in every way.

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