The Angry Exile: Comfortably Dumb?

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, 13 December 2010

Comfortably Dumb?

Click for article

Mr Gilmour, a 21-year-old Cambridge student, was arrested on suspicion of violent disorder and criminal damage after climbing the Cenotaph and swinging from a Union flag at the protests on Thursday.
New pictures of Mr Gilmour show him lighting a pile of newspapers at the entrance to the Supreme Court. His attempt was foiled after fellow students alerted police about what he was doing.

I suppose he'll claim it was a momentary lapse of reason but for my money he was lucky someone was there to stop him. You can potentially do some serious time for arson as it carries a maximum term of life. I'd say he should be happy that his fellow protestors weren't all animals and that at least one of them was prepared to meddle.

It has also emerged that despite a public apology for climbing the Cenotaph, privately he was defiant. On his Facebook page he said he had not damaged the Cenotaph and criticised the media for focusing on him.
He wrote: “I did not actually damage the cenotaph. it is the warped priorities of the right wing media that has caused most damage right now.
“The red tops [tabloid newspapers] can go f*** themselves. They’re the despicable ones, they should have been paying attention to the poor person who had to have brain surgery after the police smashed her in, not to f****** stupid me swinging off a flag.
...
“Despite the numerous death threats, yes I’m fine. I’m genuinely sorry for what I’ve done. In all honesty I really didn’t know what I was doing.”

Doesn't sound like he's overcome with sorrow to me. No, Charlie, it's too late to take it back now. Hells, bells, kid, do you think we're all suffering from brain damage or something?

Mr Gilmour, who is studying history, arrived at the protests on Thursday carrying a red and black flag in one hand and a book of verse in the other.

History, eh? Well I didn't think it'd be maths or economics or he might have worked out the consequences of setting fire to a public building. Look at it like this, Chaz, if the whole place had gone down flaming as a result of you setting a fire then not only could it be absolutely curtains for someone inside but you'd end up on the run and the repairs and rebuild costs, along with possibly increased insurance premiums, would have to come out of public funds. Public funds that you wanted to go into everlasting free tertiary education.

On Friday he appeared to realise the gravity of his actions on Friday.
He told a friend on Facebook: “I’m f*****, this is probably the worst thing I’ve done. I just wanted to swing from a flag. I didn’t realise it was the Cenotaph. I feel so ashamed right now.”
By Saturday, however, he had changed his tone: “Not only has the rising political youth movement been violently repressed but, despite its angry pleading screams for mercy, the nation has bent over and [been] f***** by the government yet again.”

Oh Christ. Why do you even have to keep talking, Charlie? One of the few things I can agree on is that the nation has indeed been bent over and fucked by the government, but it's not because they're making cuts since they really aren't making cuts at all. Clearly we're poles apart on this. Even as it is Cameron is being way too careful with that axe ~~Eugene~~. Is it too much to ask that one of these days you and your fellow students will realise that taxpayers do not have bottomless pockets and that when one government has overspent catastrophically the next one has to find somewhere to economise - and I'd say they haven't even fucking started yet. You might think Cameron's a heartless cutter, Charlie, but the poor sods footing the bill look at the expenditure and the nation's debt still rising and think, "Cuts? Where?" Do you think you can get that through your head? It would be so nice.

What a division bell-end.

PS - Sorry about the large number of gratuitous Pink Floyd references. I've just been having one of my turns. There will not be a prize for anyone who can spot them all and list them in the comments, but you're welcome to claim bragging rights if you do.

PPS - I was trying very hard to work in Several Species Of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together In A Cave And Grooving With A Pict (that one doesn't count) but eventually I became lost for words. Anyone want a go?