Monday, 9 January 2012

Field Studys Man in E17 languishes in a slough of despond

I have, oh yes I have been languishing in a slough of despondenc-E17. Come on man, get over it - move on! Each night of late as I have begun the descent into the bucolic of Beere's' electric Eden ( to Vashti Bunyan's twittering of another diamond day) I have looked over my shoulder and seen the flimsily cardboard repaired door - the still apparent infestation of intruder(s); mice the size of rats the size of cats the size of dogs and all that savage 'jaw' of 2012 (my new 1984). A psycho-drama out of a crisis indeed. A door, a door, my king-, or rather, serf-, dom for a door. Please me land lord, restore me door for the sake of me sweet dreams and all. 
Grumpily I have rolled off my bed in the mornings cursing and demonising the perpetrators of my sleepless and unsettled selfdom. A crisis of liberal guilt is what I am enduring; scratching at my chest, tearing at my flesh, in penance and recompense for my politically incorrect lapse - the demonization of the burglars (the person  or persons who burgled) rather than burglary. Dear burglar (or burglars), I referred to you as parasitic scum. I am so sorry. Of course you are not a scum bag. Your burgling behaviour, no doubt born of some conspiring societal constructs against you, was parasitic and 'scumly' or 'scumlish' or 'scumful' but you are not, definitely not, a scum-bag and a parasite. I forgot my aspiring liberal self and demonised you rather than the behaviour. Forgive my lapse into daily mail invective. See - read me here, flagellating. You are not 'a burglar' but a person who burgled and burglary is a behaviour into which you have been coerced by social construction - a mire.

'This miry Slough is such a place as cannot be mended; it is the descent whither the scum and filth that attends conviction for sin doth continually run, and therefore is it called the Slough of Despond: for still as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there ariseth in his soul many fears, and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all of them get together, and settle in this place; and this is the reason of the badness of this ground.'[1]

It is I who hath sinned, being complicit in your duping, the corruption of your tabula rasa. 

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