K. Morris's Blog, page 819
July 18, 2013
The Joys of Commuting
Beware the dangers of complacency. I boarded the 17:22 from London Victoria to Gypsy Hill yesterday. It was boiling hot and the heat combined with the movement of the train made me sleepy. I dozed. At some point I became aware that the train had stopped. I and my fellow passengers where stuck in no man’s land between Battersea Park and Clapham Junction station. The windows where open but the lack of motion rendered this fact of little consequence. I along with my fellow commuters made the best of a sticky (in more than one sense of the word) situation. People read their papers. a man complained to someone or other rather loudly on his mobile that he was stuck on a train, he hated the idea of driving for 2 hours to get somewhere or other that evening but that he would, reluctantly make the effort, while a gentleman with what a former colleague of mine used to call “issues” wandered up and down the train talking to all and sundry.
The driver was brilliant keeping us informed of what was happening. Apparently someone had collapsed in Clapham station and paramedics where in attendance.
Oh the dangers of complacency. There I was expecting the journey to take 25 minutes maximum. I’d alight at Gypsy Hill, enjoy a cooling pint in my favourite pub on the way home and reach my flat at a relatively early hour. however we remained stuck in no man’s land for about half an hour. Originally the driver announced that the train when it got going once more would run as normal to Crystal Palace but would then be fast until London Bridge. I smiled smugly as Gypsy Hill is the station prior to Crystal Palace so I would, once the train got going have a relatively (although much lengthier than anticipated) journey. Alas it was not to be. After 20 minutes or so our friendly driver announced that when we got moving the train would return to Battersea Park and passengers would need to make their way from that station homewards.
When we finally got moving and pulled into Battersea that well known military strategist, General Chaos took charge of the situation. We where directed to platform 5 only to find that trains to Crystal Palace where not going from there. A man entertained us by attempting to use the help phone located on the platform. What fun he had standing there for several minutes listening to “please wait, please wait”! When he was finally connected the operator had no idea of what was happening but at least it is good to know that someone or other is being kept in business to answer the helpline!
To cut a long story short I was helped by a fellow passenger to catch my train on platform 3 and I arrived at my destination around 2 hours later than I should have done.
My poor dog was panting like a steam train while stuck on the train (wearing a thick hairy coat which one can not take off is no fun in this weather)! Thankfully one of the station staff gave him a drink at Battersea and he was none the worse for his experience. Dare I take the train today I ask myself!
July 16, 2013
An Act Of Mercy
”they are almost like human vermin. They crawl about, doing absolutely nothing, except polluting and corrupting everything they touch. We talk about the
liberty of the subject. What nonsense! What waste of words! We ask that you should take these people and have proper control over them, because they have
no control over themselves. They are verminous, dirty, with no idea of washing or cleansing themselves. Yet they are human beings, and you could, under
proper control, so far improve them that they could be put to some employment, not enough to keep them—I never expect that—but sufficient to maintain themselves
partly, and to give them a human existence which they have not got now. Above everything else, you would stop the supply of these children—a very important
thing”, Will Crooks Labour MP:
“Mrs Murphy?”
“Yes” the young woman replied.
“I’m from the Board, can I come in?”
The door handle rattled in time with the sudden shaking of Mrs Murphy’s hands which her visitor’s words produced.
“No please go away” she said tears filling her blue eyes. They had been beautiful once but now all the man could see as he gazed into them was unfathomable suffering. He could feel himself being drawn down, down into the depths of her pain. With an effort he looked away.
“Mrs Murphy if you don’t let me in I’ll call the police and they’ll force you to admit me. Wouldn’t it be easier just to open the door?”
Mrs Murphy stood rock-like in the doorway. Her fear had abated now. She felt only a deep searing anger against her unwanted visitor and all he represented.
“Fuck off and crawl back under whatever stinking rock you crawled out from under” she said attempting to slam the door.
The man stuck his foot out preventing the door from closing.
“You have a daughter, Jenny, I have authority to inspect her”.
“Over my dead body she isn’t a fucking piece of meat for you to examine. She’s my little angel please, please just go away!” Mrs Murphy said her body convulsing with sobs.
The man didn’t consider himself to be heartless. He had two healthy children of his own but he was paid to carry out an important function. The government had mandated the Board to cleanse society of the unproductive and he, as it’s representative was obligated to rid the country of the vermin and parasites which placed an intolerable burden on the productive classes. He smiled as he remembered a quote attributed to Lord Salisbury. What was it? Something like,
“I consider myself to be no more important than a policeman who’s utility would disappear if there where no more criminals”,
Yes he was a mere cog in the great machine of state who’s purpose would be fulfilled once the sterilisation of the mental defectives, the disabled and other human detritus had been effected. He was glad that he, personally wasn’t in charge of the sterilisations. There where rumours of men and women being dragged kicking and screaming into the operating theatre, of botched operations and of patients bleeding to death. Thank Christ he was a mere lowly cog in the impersonal machine of state responsible only for identifying children who’s existence was superfluous to the efficient operation of a modern and progressive society. He didn’t have to take the children away, that was the job of the Sanitary Police. He believed in the system but still he felt relief that someone other than himself had the task of ripping children out of the arms of their wailing parents.
“How can you sleep at night? Do you have children of your own?” Mrs Murphy said her sobs subsiding. Just possibly she could reason with this man she thought a flicker of hope kindling in her breast.
“I have two healthy little boys. They will grow up to be functional members of the community contributing to the common good. Mrs Murphy I do understand that you love your child, however the good of society must override personal feelings. It costs, on average one million pounds to maintain a severely disabled person from infancy to death. In a time of finite resources it is morally imperative that those who are unable to contribute to the social good are humanely (he was going to say disposed of but, instead said) dealt with”.
“My daughter, my daughter is not a fucking economic resource. Jenny is a precious little girl. You have no right (she stopped momentarily choking with emotion), you have no right to treat people like objects as though they didn’t matter. You have no” she broke down again burying her head in her hands.
“In nature the strong survive and the weak go to the wall. The problem is madam that governments/society allowed a tide of degenerates, mental and physical cripples to live at it’s expense like a dog ridden with fleas. Eventually the dog must be treated, either the fleas are exterminated or the healthy dog dies. Society is the dog and delousing is long overdue”. Shit he had gone to far, it wasn’t supposed to be publicly acknowledged that unproductive elements where eliminated. Indeed he didn’t know with any certainty that this was in fact the case. He had heard of workshops where those capable of work where employed but he remembered with a shudder a conversation with a drunken doctor from one of the “treatment” centres
“Do you know why I’m pissed?”
“No” the man thought wishing to hell that the man who had just invaded his space would vacate it.
“I can’t cope with my work without getting pissed. I come here every night. Do you know what I do?”
“Know”
“I’m a doctor. Time was when doctors where supposed to treat the sick, but now I’m like a fucking vet”
The man didn’t want to hear anymore and rose to leave but the doctor detained him in a vice like grip
“Yeah I inject them. Just a little prick and it’s all over. Good night Vienna” the man said laughing drunkenly.
With a start he pulled himself back to the present.
“I meant treated. The dog is treated, I used an inappropriate word”.
“No, everyone knows what goes on in those places” Mrs Murphy said turning her tear stained face towards her unwelcome guest. “Please if I give you money can you write a report saying that Jenny is of at least average intelligence?”
“No madam that would be unethical”
“Unethical, and killing disabled children is ethical, god what a fucked up world we live in”.
At that moment they where interrupted by a girl of about 12 with beautiful blue eyes and long blonde hair,
“mummy wher’s molly dolly. Jen Jen wants to play with her dolly but can’t find it”.
The child’s manner of speaking clearly marked her as a girl with learning difficulties. Mrs Murphy clutched her daughter close,
“Please don’t, for the love of god please”
The man had never seen such raw emotion before. Usually people where shell shocked and he could leave to file his report and leave the Sanitary Police to finish the cleansing. He stood not knowing how to respond. Eventually he turned away leaving mother and daughter locked in one another’s arms.
Later, sitting at his desk he stirred long and hard at the computer screen. At last he opened Microsoft Word and wrote:
“Jenny Jones, 1 the Marshes, Bristol:
I inspected the above child on 15 March 2030 and she appeared to me to be normal in every way. In my considered opinion a repeat visit would serve no useful purpose”.
Closing Microsoft he clicked on the civil service jobs site. He needed a change of career …
July 15, 2013
Afterwards (blank verse)
Love and lust all end in dust. Standing at the mirror applying makeup, hiding who you are, but who are you anyway? A girl seeking for something beyond your grasp, you trip gaily down the primrose path to destruction. You laugh the sound signifies I no not what.
Meet Robert Galbraith err I mean JK Rowling!
The Daily Mail reports that the crime novel, A Cuckoo’s Calling, by the first time author Robert Galbraith wasn’t selling well until it was discovered that it had, in fact been written by one JK Rowling of Harry Potter fame! The book is now selling like hot cakes. I must be one of the few people who has never read any of the Harry Potter novels, however being a lover of crime fiction I’m tempted to head over to Amazon and purchase Robert’s (sorry Rowling’s) latest offering! For the article please visit http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2362812/Harry-Potter-author-JK-Rowlings-crime-thriller-A-Cuckoos-Calling-rejected-publisher-sales-soared-revealed-writer.html
July 14, 2013
Communal Living Anyone?
Can people live together in a state of equality by which I mean a society in which resources are shared equally and each individual contributes to the good of the whole community? The collapse of the former Soviet Union together with it’s former satelites in Eastern Europe has lead many to contend that such a state of afairs is pie in the sky. States which aim at equality inevitably degenerate into dictatorships which are neither equal or free the argument goes. But what about small communities or communes? Can groups of like minded individuals come together and live in a state of equality in which each person contributes to the common good? In any case how should we define the common good? Does it exist?
I have an idea for a story in which the above themes will be explored. I envisage a group of idealistic people joining together to farm the land in common and escape from what they perceive to be the materialism and corruption of capitalist society. Will their little community work or is it doomed to failure? Watch this space.
Ring Ring
Mobile telephones are a mixed blessing. Being in my mid fourties I am old enough to remember the days prior to the invention of the mobile. I vividly recollect feeding ten pence coins into bulky metal phones in bright red telephone boxes and, as technology advanced inserting pre-paid phone cards. It is perhaps a human trait to look at the past through rose tinted spectacles, to become all dewy eyed about the red telephone boxes which for decades where a familiar sight on practically every street of significance in the UK. It is doubtless easy to forget entering a phone box only to find that the receiver had been wrenched off by vandals, the glass had been smashed or both events had coincided to make the phone box unusable.
All of the above is true. I’ve been in phone boxes in which the receiver had parted company with the wire securing it to the handset and I’ve shivered in those tiny cabins due to the glass having been smashed. Consequently I am well aware of the benefits of mobile telephones not least as a means of contacting family or friends when one is running unexpectedly late or in case of emergencies, however the mobile is surely one of the most overused inventions (do I mean abused)?
A couple of weeks ago the British media was full of how a check-out lady in Sainsburys (a leading UK supermarket) had refused to serve a customer due to the lady holding a conversation on her mobile while, at the same time interacting with the shop assistant. The customer subsequently complained to Sainsburys, received an apology and was compensated with Sainsbury’s shopping vouchers.
I don’t condone the actions of the check-out lady. I can however understand her intense annoyance at the rudeness (doubtless unintended) of the customer who instead of interacting with her chose instead to split her attention between the person on the other end of the line and the shop assistant.
When I’m out with friends I often turn my mobile off so I can concentrate on interacting with them which is after all the whole purpose of socialising with friends.
At home I’ll frequently allow the voicemail on my landline to take calls when I’m writing or sometimes simply relaxing. Occasionaly I’ll interrupt voicemail and speak with the caller but by no means always. Technology should be our servant but we are in danger of allowing it to become our master.
I’ll finish with an incident from my own life. Yesterday I was meeting a friend for a meal in a restaurant some 15 minutes walk from my home. My friend kept texting me to say that she had arrived, did I mind if we ate in another restaurant, actually the other place was closed so should we go to an Italian restaurant etc, etc! I suspect that had I not stopped to answer all of my friend’s texts I would have reached the restaurant at least 10 minutes earlier than I in fact did! In the days before mobiles we would likely as not have met without mishap and much quicker as we wouldn’t have been messing around texting one another.
For the article regarding the incident in the supermarket please see http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2353581/Sainsburys-customer-shocked-checkout-assistant-refuses-serve-mobile.html
July 13, 2013
Books to Prop Up the Wonky Leg on your Coffee Table
Yesterday’s (12 July) Daily Mail contains an article regarding the books which people most frequently fail to finish. The survey was carried out by the Goodreads website and shows E L Jame’s Fifty Shades of Grey and J K Rowling’s The Casual Vacancy as being the books which readers most often fail to finish. I must confess to having read neither book so I am not in a position to impart words of wisdom on either work. I have, however read War and Peace in the original Russian and I must admit to having derived great pleasure from the experience. It was hard going in places but I felt a real sense of achievement once I read those final words, “the end”. OK I’d better come clean. I have indeed read War and Peace from cover to cover but it was in translation rather than the original Russian! I did, however plough through 20 odd braille volumes which took up some considerable space on my book shelves!
For the article please visit http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2361598/JK-Rowling-EL-James-bestsellers-list-books-readers-finish.html
July 11, 2013
Anyone Fancy An Apple?
My three books (“The First Time”, “Samantha” and “Sting In The Tail”) have all been written on my Sony Vio Windows 7 Home Premium laptop. I purchased it in John Lewis approximately 3 years ago and it has on the whole served me extremely well. Being blind (I don’t possess sufficient vision to read the screen) I use screen reading software called Jaws which converts text into speech and braille enabling me to read the contents of the screen. I’m currently using Jaws version 11 which is several years out of date (the current version is Jaws 14) and given the march of technology I’m finding that an increasing number of websites do not work as they should or, more correctly Jaws can’t interact with them correctly. Jaws 11 cost over £800 and to upgrade from the current version to Jaws 14 would cost approximately the same amount. This seems crazy as the cost of my laptop was £529 so in effect I could buy another laptop and still have change for the money I’d spend purchasing the latest version of Jaws.
The alternative to the above is to buy an Apple Mac. The advantage to Apple products from the point of view of visually impaired people is that they come equipped with high quality built in speech known as voiceover unlike Microsoft PCS where the blind user has to purchase additional expensive software such as Jaws (I’m not counting Narrator which is next to useless).
I’m used to I pads so purchasing an Apple PC wouldn’t be a complete leap into the dark. However I am familiar with how Jaws interacts with Windows. I know the short cuts for interacting quickly with Windows and learning Voiceover on an Apple computer would be a bit of a challenge. However I need to bite the bullet sooner or later and decide whether to upgrade Jaws or buy an Apple Mac otherwise I’ll be left with an increasing number of websites and applications which either do not work with Jaws 11 or, at best work imperfectly.
I’m rather fond of my Sony Vio laptop. It has served me well in my writing and other tasks. There is nothing wrong with the machine and it could continue to be a good little work horse for years to come (famous last words)! Anyway this evening I’ll be borrowing a friend’s Apple Mac so I’ll have the opportunity to experiment with Voiceover and decide whether the fruit or Windows (with Jaws) is the way forward. What a shame that Microsoft don’t include a high quality text to speech facility with their computers then blind people wouldn’t be faced with these expensive choices.
July 10, 2013
July 8, 2013
Update To My Goodreads Author Profile
I have now added my collection of short stories, Sting in the Tail and Other Stories, to my Goodreads Author’s Profile
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18167570-sting-in-the-tail-and-other-stories.
