The wee window cleaner
spoke to the wee roofer
Wait till the wee chimney sweep comes
then you’ll stop laughing
up there on your wee roof
Whereupon the wee roofer
dropped a wee tile
right on the wee head
of the wee window cleaner
from sheer fright
kept as quiet
as a church mouse
Playing the Human Game
Given a large enough sample of humanity you seem to arrive at the ratio of 52:48
Not just humanity – in non human tests of risk/non-risk averse behaviour in the animal kingdom – the ratio also appears to occur. Risk averse behaviour appears to have 52% of the sample.
Male to female ratio is very close to 52:48
Brexit split 52:48 – admittedly regional variations occurred but the overall figure was close to it.
This concerns me. As an example take Brexit. It might appear to be 48:52 ratio if seen from the perspective of risk aversion. Except in the case of Brexit the status-quo was seen as being the risky option. The public was presented with an overwhelming amount of propaganda which suggested the EU was damaging our society. Immigration, finance, fishing quotas. There were many arguments to suggest that the Leave vote meant security to traditional British values.
Where the ratio concerns me more, however, is not in the Brexit vote. My main concern is for the environment and the politics of greed.
We have to make choices to reverse or improve many of the current “accepted” patterns of behaviour which have proven detrimental or unsustainable. And soon. We must make choices which do not have the easiest short term benefit. Reducing oil consumption, those fishing quotas, providing health services, migration, division of wealth. Many issues across a range of topics will require that we put self-interest behind us.
Conservation in Asia and Africa requires poor nations protecting wildlife and forestry and fauna – more easily treated as commodities than preserved as long-term assets.
And that ratio is always going to pop up.
It might well be that the ratio of 52:48 is what will do for the human race.
After 2 – 3 weeks my knee is pretty much back to normal. (I had a small fall from the motorbike).
Trying out the Fuji X70 and enjoying the evenings and fresh air. Some snaps.
I have not been taking many snaps recently – the world has been unattractive and I really never feel like taking a photo. Nevertheless – I always have a wee camera in my pocket. So, in an effort to reinvigorate myself and to attempt to form a habit – some snaps taken while out walking with badger dog the last couple of days.
Links to two articles which added to my day. As opposed to the banality passing itself off as ‘content’ in the mainstream news media. There must be so little to investigate and report:
A celebration/obituary of a young American poet and writer
Syrian who drove a cab now writing again full-time
Sorry for chuckling.
I was remembering how we believed the rise of “Social Media” and the global reach of the internet would help bring the people of the world closer together.
Inspired by our recent electoral experiences
A tale of Lemmings
The Human Lemmings – all excited and gathering truffles to take back to their piggy god-idols.
The fleshy, bald, pink masters – whom they all love so well – wolf down their truffle offerings and trample their adoring little lemming worshippers. An orgy of oinking and squealing and flatulence and fur and steaming blood.
And still they come – the euphoric little rodent flock – bringing more truffles to satisfy their masters. Some bring fermenting apples from the orchards. Others shave the fur from their tiny lemming bodies to become pink and emulate the stubbly, shiny, spotty gods they so admire.
“Oink” squeak some of the shitty-brown vermin disciples. “Oink oink”…
A cry rings out across the shires: “We did it for you piggy-lords. We did it all for you. We shat on our ancestors and we stabbed all who tried to stop us. We stabbed them right in the back! All for you, our beloved better-piggies. Love us for it, please love us!”
But their beloved piggy idols simply turned from them since it was time for brandy and cigars. They turned their backs to the squealing lemming masses and piled their opulent, stinking, squirty turds upon the ecstatic little rodent bodies. They did this, as was prophesied, so that the rich and worthy should always have a good sty to frolic around come the morning.
The lemming leaders looked around. They turned and spoke to the masses who had sacrificed so much. They raised their little heads and stretched their many chins to proclaim their message:
“Tomorrow they shall love us – it was always going to be tomorrow. They shall love us. Trust us!”
The Tomb of the Kings is an incredible experience. A lovely visit on a beautiful, sunny Spring day.