Only a few hours after footballer Christian Eriksen was brought back to life thanks to prompt on-field action with a defibrillator, youths broke into a Sussex football club and vandalised the life-saving equipment there.
Such behaviour is almost beyond belief in what we like to think of as a civilised society.
On the plus side, a quick response resulted in suspects being arrested. And Buxted FC has received worldwide support and financial help.
But the aftertaste lingers. The thought that such devastating deeds are even contemplated, let alone carried out, casts deep doubts about this so-called caring society.
Who breeds and sustains such brainless beings? Along with the many other uncaring, insensitive and psychotic souls stalking our streets. The thugs, thieves, abusers and even the fly-tippers who brutalise, destroy and despoil the world we all share.
This week, in my own locality, life-threatening numbskulls have yet again broken into riverside stands housing lifebuoys and scattered the buoys and unravelled the lines.
For the second time in three days. In a city served by three tidal rivers that wash over mudbanks twice a day. And where emergency services are regularly called out to rescue (not always with hoped-for results) the unwary.
At such times it is hard not wish that these misguided miscreants become victims in need of the equipment they destroy.
And that it has been rendered unusable.
Trust it to do the wrong thing
Will the National Trust ever learn? After a year or more of attracting headlines for all the wrong reasons, it is at it again.
It seems hellbent on alienating its once unfailingly loyal following, losing members by the bucket load and flailing about in all directions like a blindfolded rambler lost in the forest.
Its roots and raison d’etre are long forgotten. The new doctrine seems to be “if we can offend or upset, then we will”. Or “let’s kow-tow to the noisily threatening minority and to hell with the loyal and silent majority”.
And Tim the Postman is still lingering on at the head table long after he should have been stood down for overseeing the massive injustice meted out to sub-postmasters throughout the country.
Okay, he says he will be going. But why the long wait for something that should have happened ages ago?
The latest muddled diktat is to try to persuade its loyal yet long-suffering volunteers to apply glitter and facepaint as part of its demonstration of support for Pride month. Also encouraged is dressing up in “colourful clothes”, entwining rainbow flowers in their hair and applying multi-coloured make-up.
All without first sounding out members of their volunteer army about their willingness and support for such a far from spontaneous gesture.
Personal feelings are not considered. The pressure to comply and conform is considerable. To resist an employer’s dictatorial demands has frequently been shown to bring a range of unwanted consequences; from side-lining to downgrading or dismissal.
This is not an issue about the pros and cons of Pride itself; but of what the National Trust stands for, its current wavering direction and which path it now intends to follow.
Clearly it suffers from a memory span shorter than that suffered by many of its elderly members. As recently as 2017 it faced a Pride backlash (and an about-face) when it ordered staff refusing to wear rainbow badges and lanyards to be confined to backroom duties.
As the song says, When will they ever learn?
Of course, the meeters and greeters, the guides, shop staff and other helpers could well have been Flower People back in the 60s and will thus revel in this chance to relive those willowy, wafty carefree days of freedom.
Can’t you just imagine it: all those creaking limbs and wrinkled faces in flares and flowing gowns floating through the gardens and down country house staircases?
No, me neither.
More likely another about-face is coming; along with further disillusion and grumbling among the ranks. A membership sustained by those who join purely for the parking benefits.
Nothing quite like a cheering book:
Received a mailout from Waterstones. It urged me to read “a suspenseful slice of 21st century paranoia”. Just what we all need right now. Paranoia for the people. Helped along by an encouraging (?) title, Leave The World Behind. Four little, and possibly dangerous, words that could well be the tipping point for the more desperate among us. Think it’s one for much cheerier times.
Taste test fail
Am ever seeking proof that vegan food can be as pleasing to the tastebuds as real (i.e. not pretending to be something it isn’t) food. Tempted by yet another label stating “suitable for vegetarians and vegans.” Took a lick of the “100% naturally derived ingredients”. Aaargh, and ugh! Definitely an acquired taste – for masochists. Posh nosh foodie freaks can’t seem to get enough of squirts of gels with everything; but I decided aloe vera gel was one lick too far.