Half Life – 3 – a division
13th November 2020
It is a small and divided world. The campaigning is frantic, leaflets with misinformation fill the letterboxes, and allegations of process abuse fly around. Some have implied financial inconsistencies and conflicts of interest. Conspiracy theories abound. Facts are being replaced by alternative facts, opinion, and paranoia. Passions are sky high, and it looks like common ground is as real as Narnia. Each side claims right and truth is on their side. I am sure, if it gets to it, they will all claim God too. In fact, I guess they will recruit all the gods – including my favourite, the Flying Spaghetti Monster – to their side of the cause.
That such complex intrigue should be generated, not by the US election but by the proposal in The Village to set up a community orchard, shows that politics are truly local. Not even Brexit stirred the folk of middle England to such passion. Worries about abuse of the orchard by undesirables leapt out as the top concern for the 15-tree extravaganza. Although I am sure our tiny gaggle of rather decent dope-smoking teenage rebels will always find a place to hang out, before they have to be home in time for bed.
It all started when some upstarts who have not lived in The Village for ten generations, steadily marrying their cousins, wanted to do things to make our lives better through kicking off a few local enviromental projects. These ‘Londoners’ – a generic term for all outsiders regardless whether they come from Edinburgh, Cheshire, or New Zealand – clearly have no right to do anything. It is quite simple, I was told after making the mistake of asking. If you have lived here all your life then you are a ‘true Villager’ and belong here. If not, then please go away. You should not be here, and please leave your money behind on the way out. I am confident our two young children will rise to the challenge. They have been here all their lives - so when their parents are chased away by the righteous mobs, wielding pitchforks and flaming torches, they will have to learn to fend for themselves. A life of PS4 and frozen pizza lies in front of them, as no-one delivers anything edible to these remote parts. A ton of logs or 50 kilos of animal feed can, however, be dropped off to your doorstep in the blink of an eye.
Priorities and perceptions are baffling. The Village is a wonderful place with reasonable, sensible, kind, friendly, people…until something new is proposed by a “Londoner”. Then inner personalities bubble to the surface, prejudices stalk the streets and prowl the market square, and political activism takes over the souls of those who, previously, would not even put a party poster in their window during a general election. The death of open, democratic dialogue, even in such a small place, is a tragedy. We all agree on so much. The support I have had from near strangers has been amazing and the kindness shown immeasurable. But, the The Village has caught the disease of focusing on areas of disagreement and combined it with the fashion not to sit down, talk it through and find a solution. We are a sad reflection of the world around us; shouting has taken over from talking.
As for me, for once I am pleased to have a built in excuse to side step the whole argument. Playing the ‘cancer card’ of having too much on my plate already, I’m going to put a colander on my head, invoke the power of the Flying Spaghetti Monster so sanity returns to The Village, and wait until things calm down and a civilised discussion about the planting of a few apple trees can take place. Then I can go back to focusing on trivia, such as being worried about Donald Trump’s view on the environment, or the opening of yet another food bank in The Town nearby as unemployment climbs.
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I've heard a lot about the orchard controversy, along with some of the ludicrous reasons for objecting to it. Dangerous things, apple trees...
Charlie. Enjoying reading these. Wish I could take u for a pint in the dew drop you deserve it!! Look after yourself Nick