The Angry Exile: Keeping 'er indoors happy

The Hangman

Into our town the Hangman came,
Smelling of gold and blood and flame.
And he paced our bricks with a diffident air,
And built his frame in the courthouse square.
The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
Only as wide as the door was wide;
A frame as tall, or little more,
Than the capping sill of the courthouse door.
And we wondered, whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal, what the crime
That the Hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.
And innocent though we were, with dread,
We passed those eyes of buckshot lead --
Till one cried: "Hangman, who is he
For whom you raised the gallows-tree?"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
And he gave us a riddle instead of reply:
"He who serves me best," said he,
"Shall earn the rope of the gallows-tree."
And he stepped down, and laid his hand
On a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
At the Hangman's hand was our relief
And the gallows-frame on the courthouse lawn
By tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way, and no one spoke,
Out of respect for his Hangman's cloak.
The next day's sun looked mildly down
On roof and street in our quiet town,
And stark and black in the morning air
Was the gallows-tree in the courthouse square.
And the Hangman stood at his usual stand
With the yellow hemp in his busy hand;
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike
And his air so knowing and business-like.
And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done
Yesterday, with the foreign one?"
Then we fell silent, and stood amazed,
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."
He laughed a laugh as he looked at us:
"Did you think I'd gone to all this fuss
To hang one man? That's a thing I do
To stretch a rope when the rope is new."
Then one cried "Murder!" and one cried "Shame!"
And into our midst the Hangman came
To that man's place. "Do you hold," said he,
"with him that was meant for the gallows-tree?"
And he laid his hand on that one's arm.
And we shrank back in quick alarm!
And we gave him way, and no one spoke
Out of fear of his Hangman's cloak.
That night we saw with dread surprise
The Hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
The gallows-tree had taken root;
Now as wide, or a little more,
Than the steps that led to the courthouse door,
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
Halfway up on the courthouse wall.
The third he took -- we had all heard tell --
Was a usurer, and an infidel.
"What," said the Hangman "have you to do
With the gallows-bound, and he a Jew?"
And we cried out, "Is this one he
Who has served you well and faithfully?"
The Hangman smiled: "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows-beam."
The fourth man's dark, accusing song
Had scratched our comfort hard and long;
"And what concern," he gave us back.
"Have you for the doomed -- the doomed and Black?"
The fifth. The sixth. And we cried again,
"Hangman, Hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick," he said. "that we hangmen know
For easing the trap when the trap springs slow."
And so we ceased, and asked no more,
As the Hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night,
The gallows grew to monstrous height.
The wings of the scaffold opened wide
Till they covered the square from side to side;
And the monster cross-beam, looking down,
Cast its shadow across the town.
Then through the town the Hangman came,
Through the empty streets, and called my name --
And I looked at the gallows soaring tall,
And thought, "There is no one left at all
For hanging, and so he calls to me
To help pull down the gallows-tree."
So I went out with right good hope
To the Hangman's tree and the Hangman's rope.
He smiled at me as I came down
To the courthouse square through the silent town.
And supple and stretched in his busy hand
Was the yellow twist of the hempen strand.
And he whistled his tune as he tried the trap,
And it sprang down with a ready snap --
And then with a smile of awful command
He laid his hand upon my hand.
"You tricked me. Hangman!," I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men...
And I no henchman of yours," I cried,
"You lied to me, Hangman. Foully lied!"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
"Lied to you? Tricked you?" he said. "Not I.
For I answered straight and I told you true --
The scaffold was raised for none but you.
For who has served me more faithfully
Then you with your coward's hope?" said he,
"And where are the others who might have stood
Side by your side in the common good?"
"Dead," I whispered. And amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
"First the foreigner, then the Jew...
I did no more than you let me do."
Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
None had stood so alone as I.
The Hangman noosed me, and no voice there
Cried "Stop!" for me in the empty square.

Maurice Ogden

Monday, 26 October 2009

Keeping 'er indoors happy - an update.

Seems some think that everything will be made okay if they just employ each other's spouses. I think a lot of people are missing the point here. Parliament is not supposed to be some kind of swingers' party where all the car keys go into a bowl but regardless of who goes off with whom it's the taxpayer who gets fucked. If the significant other is right for the job and pulls their weight it shouldn't matter that they work for their own partner, so working for another MP wouldn't be necessary (wouldn't be prohibited either of course). If they're crap they shouldn't be working for any MP, end of. The test is competence and value for money, and as long as an MPs' constituents are getting that there is no problem. If they think the MP is just hiring family at bloody good rates just to stuff the odd envelope and reply to a few emails - or in the infamous Conway case, apparently fuck all - they might be forgiven for thinking that the venal little shit is just milking the system by adding to the family or couple's collective income.

The thing is that MPs and their spouses are making a rod for their own backs here. I'm sure that if it was a handful employing family and they appeared to be doing the job okay there wouldn't be much made of it. But with the expenses scandal highlighting what a bunch of greedy cunts they are and nearly a third of them employing spouses (might be more if sons, daughters and siblings are added - not sure) it just looks like another piss take. Is it remotely credible that all MPs employing spouses in various roles interviewed a range of candidates and all 200+ found that their own spouse was best suited? I can't help thinking that if Douglas Carswell's and Daniel Hannan's Plan is ever implemented then the open primary selection of prospective parliamentary candidates along with the right to recall wayward MPs will go a long way to solving the problem. Candidates who seemed untrustworthy wouldn't be selected to contest seats and MPs who proved untrustworthy would be recalled and probably lose their seats. A term or two of this would ensure that any spouses on the payroll would most likely be doing the job and deserve to be there. Failing that then all MPs' staff should be centrally advertised and recruited by the House of Commons itself, and MPs would be assigned researchers, secretaries, office managers, whatever from a central pool and if spouses want to apply then let 'em. It might be necessary to select from geographically similar areas of the pool so that the MP for Truro doesn't end up with staff who live no closer than Sunderland, and that would obviously tip things in the favour of any spouses and rellies in the pool. It might be also be necessary to allow MPs the right to reject staff after a trial period (or vice versa), and since that would also shorten the odds it should be allowed as long as it doesn't look like they're just going to keep rejecting people until they get the one they want. But if Mrs Jones ends up working for Mr Jones MP by random lot then it shouldn't be a big deal. After all, most of us think a number of them are nailing the secretaries anyway.