Delaying the Inevitable

Life is a series of choices. Big ones, little ones, clear-cut ones, difficult ones, ones that creep up on you without you realizing you’re making them. We’re all constrained by a finite amount of time, money and energy, and what we choose to do with them reflects our priorities. Should I apply for that job? Should I move? Should we have kids? Should I go for a run? Should I sit on the sofa with a double pack of Jaffa cakes watching World's Scariest Police Chases? Who should I vote for? We choose our representatives in parliament, and government makes choices on our behalf. With the finite amount of money and time they have, governments’ funding and policies have to reflect their priorities. Do you, for example, prioritise a multi-billion pound nuclear missile system designed to vaporize hundreds of thousands of people in nanoseconds, or do you prioritise something less explosive like health and social care? If you lead a party, you need to convince the electorate that you

We planted the flag, but it didn’t grow Oh no! Let’s find something different to sow We’ll pull up the drawbridge, we’ll turn off the lights We’ll round them all up and we’ll read them their rights We’ll build a huge wall, and we’ll get them to pay (But if they say no, we’ll push on anyway) We’ll strengthen the army, campaigns will be planned (For ease we’ll find foes that are closer to hand) And when that’s all done, we all should unite One country, together, to fight the good fight

A heart warming tale for children of all ages: Bobby was an idealistic little bee. He spent his days buzzing around the meadows, bringing back pollen for the hive. It was exhausting and dangerous work. And he thought to himself “Why do some bees do all the hard work, putting their bee-lives on the bee-line all day, while others get the prime spots in the hive just because of inherited privilege?” The bee rulers said to the bee workers “Aren’t we lucky to have our hive close to the sunny meadow with plenty of flowers? Aren’t we lucky, because some bees have nothing?” And while other bees felt happy with their situation, Bobby knew that this was just a distraction, a con-trick to make the workers grateful for the basic shelter and sustenance they needed to survive whilst the rulers hoarded obscene quantities of honey, enriching themselves at the expense of the masses. So Bobby started to protest, he handed out bee-leaflets, he held up bee-placards, he wrote bee-protest songs.