The Angry Exile: Tell me this isn't a coincidence

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

Friday 9 December 2011

Tell me this isn't a coincidence

First, there's this:

A chief examiner at one of Britain’s biggest exam boards was recorded boasting about the lack of substance in the company’s tests – and their disbelief that it has been cleared by the official regulator.
Steph Warren, in charge of Edexcel GCSE Geography, said that teachers should pick her company’s exam because “you don’t have to teach a lot”.

And then there's this:

Now I do realise that these are from different countries but the UK and US have quite a lot in common, including the modern sleb culture and persistent worries about dumbing down of edumacation - 'dumbing down' is an American phrase, after all. If you want a more UK-centric example of sleb-fascination as an alternative to news you don't have to look far. Looking at The Daily Mail's site now their sidebar consists of the following (and I really don't blame if you don't read every line of this):

Something about Sinead O'Connor getting married again
A story about the average weight of British women
Something about Anna Nicole-Smith, who is apparently still dead
Something about Angelina Jolie
Something about Jennifer Lopez
Something about X-Factor judges who are apparently called Gary, Kelly and Tulisa (who, who, who and who gives a fuck?)
Something about someone called Selena Gomez and Justin fucking Bieber
A story about a single father raising twins
Something by Jan Moir about someone called Caroline Flack
Something about someone called Kimberley Walsh
Something about someone called Irina Shayk
Something about Charlize Theron's clothes
Something about someone called Chelsee Healey
Something about someone called Kate Upton
Something about Prince William's wife's clothes
Something about Declan Donnelly's car
Something about Katie Price
Something about someone called Lea Michele
Something about someone called Kris Jenner being upset about something Daniel Craig said
Something about someone called Alicia Douvall
Something about something called a Kardashian (who are apparently not Star Trek aliens but real people... for a given value of real)
Something about someone called Amanda Seyfried
Something by Jizz Loans
Something about someone called Harry Judd
Something about Paris Hilton
Something about Beyoncé whatsername
Something about Twiggy
Something about Salma Hayek's tits
Something else about that Caroline Flack person again, but not by Jan Moir
Something about a coat owned by Emma Watson, Natalie Portman and someone called Kristen Stewart
Something about someone called Anna Massey in something about a loony in Broadmoor
Something about someone called Amy Childs
Something about Ray Winstone being in something
Something about David Jason being in something
Something else about Angelina Jolie
Something about someone called Jacqui Ainsley
Something about Louise Redknapp's shampoo
Something about Sacha Baron Cohen
Something about someone called Kara Tointon
Something about Venus Williams
Something about someone called Kelly Rowland and someone called Amelia
Something about something called JWoww (who seems to be a person but sounds like a cleaning product)
Something about someone called Jennifer Hudson
Something about someone called Kitty Brucknell
Something about a transexual trying to turn him/herself into Barbie (just more plastic, I assume)
Something about someone called Jennifer Garner
Something about one of Michael Jackon's kids being in a film or something
Something about someone called Christine Bleakley
Something about that Grilled Bear bloke meeting Mrs Queen
Something about someone called Andrew Garfield
Something about someone called Pat Sharp and her daughter, and someone called Mark Wright
Something about Andie MacDowell's daughter
Something about someone called Rachel Crow
Something about another one of the Kardashians
Something about someone called Kris Humphries
Something about someone called Dianna Agron and someone called Sebastian Stan (almost current affairs in that he sounds like he might be a country)
Something about Shakira
Something about someone called Coco Rocha
Something about Jessica Alba's sprog meeting Santa
Something that might be about sexual abuse in Mormon communities, but might be more about some Mormon piano group
Something about someone who's someone's widow being angry with Alec Baldwin for whatever he did on that plane
Something about Michael Jackson's doctor getting a prison visit
Something about that Katherine Heigl who used to be in Grey's Annoying Me
Something about that Tiff Needell who used to be in the old Top Gear
Something about someone called Toni Collette
Something about Kirstie Alley's current size
Something about Demi Moore's daughter's arse
Something about something called Chord Overstreet (who seems to be a person but sounds like gameplay from Guitar Hero) and someone called Emma Roberts
Something about someone called Demi Lovato (who seems to be a person but sounds like musical notation)
Something about someone called Jennifer Hudson
Something about that Amy Childs again
Something about someone called Selma Blair
Something about Jessica Alba
Something about Lady Gaga
Something about Gwyneth Paltrow
Something about Cheryl Cole
Something about Christina Ricci
Something else about Katie bloody Price
Something about handbags
Something about shops
Something about shopping
Something about Tom Cruise
Something else about this Demi Lovato
Something else about this Emma Roberts person having a tattoo like the one in that book about the girl with a tattoo
Something about bridesmaids wearing tuxedos
Something else about Tom Cruise
Something about someone called Kendra Wilkison
Something about someone called Kevin Federline
A story about a fake doctor doing bad cosmetic surgery in the US
Something about new Top Shop branches coming to your local high street, providing you live in Australia
Something about someone called Abigail Breslin
Something about someone called Danny O'Donaghue and Tom Jones
Something about Jersey Shore
Something about Brad Pitt's hair
Something about someone called Ali Larter's son
Something about cocaine and Charlie Sheen and someone called Brooke Mueller
A story about how Christmas drives everyone fucking nuts
Something about that horsey woman from Sex and the City
Something else about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie
Something about a body scanner, but at clothes shops to help you buy stuff rather than airports to help delay you while you're treated as a suspected terrorist
Something about some people called Arg, Mark and Dougie
Something about Lindsay Lohan
Something about Nigella Lawson
Something else about Emma Watson, but apparently not her coat this time
Something about someone called Adele
Something about money and divorces
Something that might be about sexual abuse in Mormon communities, but might be more about some Mormon piano group, and appears to be exactly the same something as the something about sexual abuse/Mormon pianists from earlier
Something about someone called Jeff Probst and someone called Lisa Ann Russell
Something about someone called Patrica Klanic whose husband is a soccer player and has been accused of rape
Something about Blur
Something else about Andie MacDowell
Something about Cameron Diaz
Something about David Cameron's hair (for fuck's fucking sake I'm fucking losing the fucking will to fucking live here)
Yet another fucking thing about this Caroline Flack and someone called harry Styles
Something about Prince Harry and his brother's wife's sister, except not really because they're only lookalikes (that's it - when I'm finished with this I'm going to book a holiday where I'm legally allowed to shoot things)
Something about Katy Perry
Something about that woman who looked all upset when Jeremy Clarkson said he wanted to shoot strikers and how she used to have a damp spot for Jason Donovan
Something about a model who's going bald
Jesus H. Christ in a fucking mothership, something else about Tom fucking Cruise
Something else about a Kardashian, possibly one of the ones from earlier but I'm so far past fucking caring at this point I just asked Mrs Exile to hold a mirror up under my nose
Something about Prince Charles not understanding Peter Kay's jokes or something
Something about Madonna likeing Prince William's wife's clothes
Something about someone called Gamu
Something about someone called Zac Effron kissing Michelle Pfeiffer
Something about Dawn French's clothes

For those that skipped much of that list it's 125 articles, 95% of which involve slebs, and close to 0% of which involve actual news. Okay, sure, they do put a lot of shite in the sidebar and more newsy news in the main bit, but even there Sinead O'Connor puts in an appearance along with one or two things about house prices (wouldn't be the Mail without them, would it?) while the story about exams being made easier appears nearly halfway down the home page.

Coincidence? I find that hard to believe. Whether it's just an effect of successive governments prioritising the appearance of educational success over actually educating or whether it's a deliberate attempt to create Orwell's proles, the undereducated 85% who were conditioned to have little or no interest in the world but were easy to manipulate. As always I tend to go with Hanlon's Razor and assume stupidity and cupidity over conspiracies, but sometimes I do wonder.