Just spent the last week doing up my old neighbours’ old fence. Like you do, your mind wanders around stuff - football, politics, racism, gas prices, terrorism, west stand etc etc and how everyone’s arguing about everything, calling folk out and taking sides. Who’s right? Who’s wrong? Who knows? And then I thought why not look at it all differently. Does the answer lie in the one simple comment you sometimes hear at a funeral? It’s nothing to do politics, what the deceased did for a job, the medals or awards they might have won. And it doesn’t come from the people giving the speeches. It comes in those strange silences when everyone’s just hanging around and waiting. And it often surprisingly comes from someone you don’t really know at all. “He was a good man” or “she was a good woman.” No one responds. They just think about those few words in silence. No explanation needed. We all instinctively know what those words mean. And perhaps those few words are the greatest testament to a life well lived. Maybe that’s the criteria we should apply to the living. Is he a good man? Is she a good woman?’ Because at the end of the day the only way forward lies with good men and women. Back to mi fence.
Along similar lines, many years ago i was thinking with a mate about if you built a new religion, what would the central tenets/commandments of your religion be. The TM Religion Guidance would be simply: "Try not to be a cuunt". I'd originally wanted the more simple "Don't be a cuunt" but I just didn't think that would be realistic.
When a snake of a guy gave me an evil wink He shook-a me up, he took me by surprise He had a pick up truck and the devil's eyes He stared at me and I felt a change Time meant nothing, never would again