Every time I open my morning paper, I am struck anew by the stern determination of those who are set over us to raise the bar for our national conduct, leading us like good shepherds out of the Valley of the Shadow of Broken Britain into the sunlit uplands of a healthier, wealthier, more responsible and charitable lifestyle.
Who could quarrel with that?
There is no single force for good like a fierce personal aspiration to higher and better things, and an education that instils only this has already achieved its best purpose.
Moreover, even a goat like myself is quite capable of appreciating how our lout-ridden, chiseller-defaced, puke-painted streets could be restored to a much lovelier civility, if only we got into the habit of holding each other to loftier standards.
But all such exalted metaphors sink abruptly and without trace, when it is the scum floating on top of the pond who are trying to bring the rest of us up to their own level.
Nature's Bounty - (This poem is brought to you courtesy of one too many forage enthusiasts being Wrong on the Internet about the merits of nomming on random bits of black ni...
2 years ago