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TO: MRS FORREST GUMPDear momma,
It seems I may not succeed here afterall and I'm thinking of coming home soon cos its getting on the wrong side of ugly in the UK - mainly because the government and the newspapers are promoting an increasingly authoritarian state and I can't share chocolates with just anyone anymore..
You know ma - it's that supposedly 'new age' state I've been telling u about - the one increasingly dictated to by petty bureaucrats who seem obsessed with telling everyone what they should do cos PC changes by the day, and they claim to be the only ones who can keep up with it...
My education continues tho' as our Local Authority is sending me on a course so that I can learn newspeak and also some brand new behaviour - (..Newact I think they call it...). It shouldn't be a problem at all cos I already read the English national opera company's 're-education document'. I could tell right off that Da shouldn't come here - it says the use of all affectionate terms like 'Dear' and 'Dearie' and 'Duckie' and 'Lovey' and especially 'Darling' are deemed to be sexually harassing and so are now banned. I would fear for his very safety momma if he sat next to any female in a public place over here..
It also appears then that our 'societal development' is blending rather neatly with Tony Blair's sheep fiddling notion that micro-managing UK institutions makes perfect sense... but only because he needs to keep people occupied so they don't tumble to the fact that 'New' Labour have no new vision other than to create a nation of bureaucrats...
You know ma I'm referring to the new society that supports a popular culture that encourages alarmist imaginations through a steady diet of annoyingly fearful media outbursts about impending calamities masquerading as 'news', the stuff we ignore at our peril until our kids learn to fear just about everything but the truth about global warming! Yes that society ma!! Ur' fully aware of it from the national enquirer I'm sure?
Pondering this all I found myself strolling around Brighton in the rain the other day (and no, before you ask I forgot my brolly..) I was busy ignoring all the bleak references about Iraq, bent coppers, Ipswich murders, abusive priests, tornado's, floods, and tsunami's etc when I wondered..?
Whatever happened to Avarian Flu? There must have been a forest of trees innoxiously felled to spread the news about THAT one last year? All that paper has probably been recycled now ma - doubtless there's some in your bathroom so watch how you use it as they'll dream up something else if they run out.. but apologies I digress..
I was in the cafe later on, picking up old newspapers at random as u do, while dreaming about mountains and flowers, Vancouver in the fog and er anywhere but here, when I recalled an article on bizarre sex advice in The Times, you know the type mom - tight corsets cause nymphomania!, orgasms can kill!, home-made Viagra recipes involved ingredients such as beetle larvae, wasps and dried snails etc...
As nonchalantly as possible while chomping down my blueberry muffin (not as good as yours...), after pretending I had been fully aware of the old lady who'd been asking for the sugar, I contrived to make my flavoured latte last a bit longer while lazily hoping for the rain to stop, so I pulled out my laptop and clicked on for a little light relief and, if the truth be told to all, it was also in a vain attempt to prevent a grossly perfumed 50'ish hag with dog's breath and a shrunken pink t-shirt from sitting next to me.
I sank further into reverie but cooool ma - it seems that in the midst of our suicide culture one retired lady like yourself is still blissfully forging ahead with the social imperative of... erm - recording all our wishes!
"People are fascinated by the idea of wishing," she says ma - yes, "and they want to know what everyone else is wishing for - but they're not sure what theirs are. It's either too difficult, or they worry about making the wrong choice". No mention at all that it might be mind-numbingly pointless.
I was more interested to hear that a wishing well was being set up on the edge of Beachy Head, guarded day and night by a team of shiny chaplins working in teams to prevent suicides so I may well consider volunteerin' in the evenings after my Newact re-education course..
It hadn't occurred to me that I might be interested in what everyone was wishing for ma, but with my insatiable curiosity for the trivial I delved a little deeper, secretly drawn by the notion of even more banality than your last letter about the washing machine, da's haircut and the new eyeglasses...
It seems that wishers (who ARE these people ?) wish for all kinds of things:
The power to heal - whether to heal all the world's problems, or perhaps just somebody's hemorrhoids is left to the granters creative imagination..
To be able to travel through time. Backwards and forwards.
A modest mansion, perhaps with Helen Mirren serving the cocktails (What insanity is this... ??).?
I wish I could meet Van Gogh. Actually this is like two wishes in one because I also wish I could speak Dutch so that when I did meet Van Gogh I could actually have a conversation with him. Can that count as one wish??
I wish I could find out what happens to you after you die. I'm a little bit scared of death and I don't like surprises.?
All seemingly quite predictable until it stuck me that most wishes were about people making 'themselves' happy nearly all would also cost more than your pension ma so I wouldn't advise a visit yourself..
Now what WAS interesting was that In a political world where all parties simply fight for the centre right, and justify themselves primarily by how many of us are getting richer; the voters - who generally don't give a rat's arse what they are up to - are all apparently daydreaming about their hemorrhoids, death and erm....
anything but here...!
Your loving son,
Moondancer Gump
PS: In case anybody asks you momma, I hereby guarantee that I am the rightful owner of the material that I am sending u, and my thoughts are not violating the Terms and Conditions or any rights of third parties. I don't believe my letter is pornographic, terroristic, racist, violent, offending or illegal and unlawful by nature either. My picture may be dubious so I put a hat on and left a disclaimer..
