Rudyard Kipling and the EU Exit Referendum

This poem was inspired by the First World War, but it seems very relevant now that a majority of people in England (and Wales), unlike Scotland and Northern Ireland, have voted in favour of leaving the EU. This despite the best efforts of the Remain brigade, who were confident of victory.

I think that Rudyard Kipling would have approved of the unexpected result. I think that he would have been a Brexit supporter.

The Beginnings

It was not part of their blood,

 It came to them very late

With long arrears to make good,

  When the English began to hate.

They were not easily moved,

 They were icy-willing to wait

Till every count should be proved,

 Ere the English began to hate.

Their voices were even and low,

 Their eyes were level and straight.

There was neither sign nor show,

 When the English began to hate.

It was not preached to the crowd,

 It was not taught by the State.

No man spoke it aloud,

 When the English began to hate.

It was not suddenly bred,

  It will not swiftly abate,

Through the chill years ahead,

 When Time shall count from the date

 That the English began to hate.

From A Diversity of Creatures by Rudyard Kipling

Yesterday, the hatred was directed towards injustice, bureaucracy, diversity and political correctness that have gone too far, globalisation, the erosion of nationalism, “leftie luvvies”, the ignoring of the interests of native English people…

The childhood of Ayn Rand: some very familiar features

We may not be as unique, unusual or individual as we thnk we are.

I have seen many examples online of people saying such things as, “I could have written that myself” and, “Are you me?” and, “That is a perfect description of MY mother.” They seem surprised to find that there are others out there who are just like them or who have had exactly the same experiences.

I have been reading about the early life of Ayn Rand. Her generation, nationality and family situation are very different from mine, yet much of her early life seems like a description of my early life. Many of her characteristics, views and experiences are very familiar; some of it reminds me of what I have read about the early lives of some writers of interest.

Some basic elements of her personality

In her biography The Passion of Ayn Rand, Barbara Branden tells us that Ayn Rand was not very interested in other children and didn’t fit in with or get on well with them; I was much the same: on the whole, they seemed alien, boring, incomprehensible and sometimes dangerous.

She was very serious and intense, too much so for the liking of her fellow schoolgirls. I was too. She felt that she failed them by not reacting, responding or behaving according to their expectations. Some of us are wired very differently on the inside from the majority of our contemporaries and just cannot fit in with them.

Ayn Rand obtained positive attention from the people around her only because of the qualities of her mind. The only time I got positive attention was when I repeated the ridiculous political ideas that I was force-fed and brainwashed with.

Ayn Rand’s intelligence ‘created a pressure to be fed’. My mind too demanded huge amounts of food and fuel in the form of books and information. I was always hungry for more.

She felt a driving ambition from an early age; I did too.

She was future-oriented from earliest childhood; I was too.

She loathed physical activity; I hated some of it too, although in my case it was not only because organised exercises and games in school seemed pointless but also because I was weakened by being eaten alive by energy vampires. Stella Gibbons too hated being forced to play team games at school; she had no interest in them and didn’t care who won.

Two bus breakdowns: accidental or not?

I was feeling very worried and under the weather a few weeks ago. I went for a series of long bus rides just to get away from things and see some new areas, buildings, houses and parks. Perhaps I should have stayed in until the bad feelings passed, as on one occasion there was a minor incident.

I was on a single-decker bus that stopped at the foot of a steep hill to pick up some people. When the driver tried to move on, it just made strange noises and juddered a bit. He was unable to get it going again, despite making every effort. He radioed for help, and was instructed to get us all off so that we could catch the next bus.

As the driver stepped off the bus, he turned to me and said:

“This is all your fault!”

He was only joking, but many a true word is spoken in jest.

No one was inconvenienced for very long: the next bus came along in under 10 minutes. The driver obviously appreciated a break in routine, a little excitement and the chance to have a cigarette. Even so, I did feel a little guilty.

I have had strange experiences with malfunctioning electrical equipment in the past, always when I was feeling very jangled. I also remembered a day many years ago when something similar happened.