Baffling violence

I’m baffled by those individuals who carry out devastating and unfathomable acts of violence against other people – and aren’t the slightest bit apologetic or remorseful about what they’ve done.
 
I was horrified by the attack on Australian MP Helen Haines, who was hit by a car deliberately driven at her and so badly crushed that both her legs had to be amputated.
 
Why on earth would someone do that? What was the driver’s motive and why did he think violence would solve his problem?
 
The Australian media have done extensive research into the alleged attacker Brendan Nugent. He was a left-winger who espoused veganism, environmental issues and greening. But he has no history of violence or advocating violence.
 
Apparently he was angry with the government, who he said hadn’t given him enough help either with his disability (transverse myelitis, which causes spinal inflammation and chronic pain) or with his mental health problems. So that may have contributed to his attack on the MP.
 
None of which explains his sudden act of extreme violence against an MP – an MP who supported the same causes as him and had never done him any harm. What the hell was going through his mind?

 Pic: Helen Haines and Brendan Nugent

The same old flaws

I love reading, but I get annoyed seeing the same old flaws over and over again. Why aren’t editors picking them up? For example:

 ·        Endings that leave half a dozen plot strands unresolved. I mean, what happened to Wendy? Did she finally leave Tom or did they kiss and make up? And what about Sophie? Did she ever kick her heroin habit?
·         A constant parade of uninteresting minor characters who're instantly forgettable and add nothing to the plot. Why not leave them all out?
·         A plot so complex and full of twists and turns that it's impossible to keep track if you have a poor memory and an IQ less than 250.
·         A pretentious writing style that equates obscure words and references with literary merit and equates simplicity with lack of imagination.
·         Numerous flash-forwards and flash-backs that leave me thoroughly confused and wondering which day or year or century we're currently in.
·         Stories told by several different narrators which never quite come together and leave gaping holes in the plot that nobody ever explains.
·         A book that would have been perfect at 300 pages, but the author thought it needed another 200 pages to do justice to their literary brilliance.
·         Amazing coincidences and lucky breaks that miraculously save a character from a sticky end. A £50,000 inheritance from a long-forgotten aunt or the sudden discovery of an identical twin sister living in Sidcup.

But despite all the flaws, I always have a book on the go and plenty more ready to be read. A few flaws won’t stop me.

Trawling menus

Some guy in an agony aunt column was complaining that when he and his partner are planning to go to a restaurant, she pores through dozens of restaurant menus first to decide which one to go to. She won’t just turn up at a restaurant and see what’s on offer.
 
The guy has tried to shake her out of this laborious searching but she insists it’s just sensible to study a whole batch of menus first so they’ll get what they want.
 
Also, as they’re both vegetarian, she studies the menus to ensure they offer a range of veggie dishes – or at least one or two acceptable options.
 
I’m with the guy’s partner. Not studying a few menus first is a bit like taking pot luck at the cinema without looking at what’s showing.
 
And yes, there’s the vegetarian angle. If there’s only one dull veggie choice on one of the menus, you can steer clear and go somewhere better.
 
Not that Jenny and I eat out very often, it’s getting so expensive. But that makes it more important to study what’s on offer in advance so we’ll enjoy our meal.

Smooth and hairless

We aren’t supposed to talk about body hair. Either you have it or you haven’t and that’s that. You might have problems with it but nobody wants to know about that.
 
Fair enough for blokes because we’re allowed to have as much body hair as we want, including beards and moustaches. Some men would even say the hairier the better. But other men like to remove their body hair and that’s fine as well.
 
Very different for women, who’re expected to have no body hair whatever and keep themselves permanently smooth and hairless. So they have to spend time waxing and shaving and plucking and electrolysing until they’re as smooth as a baby’s bottom.
 
But I’ve known several women who complained frequently that they had prolific body hair and it drove them mad trying to get rid of it all. They would wear clothes that completely covered their body and hid the offending hair.
 
Why can’t we just decide for ourselves what to do with our body hair? Either leave it as it is or remove it all, as we wish?
 
Personally I have very little body hair so it doesn’t bother me. But if I was one of those heavily hirsute males I’d definitely want to get rid of it all. It might be hugely laborious but the truth is I would want to be as smooth as a baby’s bottom.

Forever buying

I’ve never been a compulsive shopper. I don’t understand people who are forever window-shopping and looking for something to buy.
 
My attitude to clothing (probably a typical male attitude) is to wait till something is falling apart, then go to the shops and buy a replacement. Easy peasy.
 
I don’t buy things because I like the look of them (except for clothes), I don’t buy things because they’ve been recommended by someone or because they might come in handy. In general I’m strictly guided by need and need alone.
 
I do buy a lot of books, but that’s also prompted by need – the need for pleasure. Or maybe the need for mental exercise.
 
Jenny finds this strict approach to shopping rather odd, but on the other hand she envies how quickly my shopping is done. She can deliberate for weeks on a possible purchase before finally buying it.
 
I know that for some people impulsive shopping can provide a powerful rush of excitement or euphoria when they’re feeling a bit depressed, though that usually doesn’t last very long.
 
My mum was a compulsive shopper and, as regular readers will know, when she died her flat was piled high with a mountain of random purchases, many of which she had never actually worn or used. She couldn’t resist anything that seemed like a bargain.

False assumptions

Are we more or less fearful as we get older? I tend to assume we become more fearful and that children are less fearful because their parents protect them from harm. But is that true?
 
Actually there are plenty of things to be afraid of as a child. School bullies, strict headmasters, violent men, vicious dogs, thunderstorms, bad dreams, you name it.
 
I think we oldies don’t have more fears, just different ones. I‘m afraid of living so long I run out of money. I’m afraid of thuggish-looking men. I’m afraid of doing something careless when I’m driving. I’m afraid of saying something stupid or embarrassing.
 
Of course my childhood is so far away that it’s hard to recall any particular fears. I was scared of my bad-tempered father and scared of a local boy who used to taunt me as I walked past, and yes, I was scared of school bullies. Other than that, I can’t remember any other fears.
 
I’m a bit dubious about people who say they don’t have any fears. Can that really be true? In this dangerous world we inhabit nowadays, how could they be so blissfully immune?