I haven’t been moved to write many blogs recently, mostly because of a nagging and, at times all encompassing, feeling of “how could this happen” following the result of the UK EU referendum. The fact that so many people voted for isolationism flies in the face of good sense left me feeling quite despondent. I fear that as time goes by this vote may only be the calm before the storm, but dearly hope that the people who enthusiastically voted for Brexit believing in the plucky British spirit that will triumph over all obstacles and become the victorious underdog are proved right, however unlikely that that sounds. Surely nobody in their right mind votes enthusiastically in favoor of limiting people’s freedom of movement?
And so it is over to the new UK Prime Minister, who no elector voted for, to open up the exit doors and begin the process of de-coupling. This week Mrs May spoke warmly of new and developing partnerships with China and it is that ridiculousness that has inspired me to put fingers to keyboard again. The relationships that she is trying to nurture are with the world’s manufacturing base, I agree, but China is also the country where freedom of expression is not encouraged, where freedom of movement not easy and where capital punishment is a much used punishment. It is also a country where selective birthing is practised resulting in a growing gender imbalance while corruption is common. What a noble, autocratic country to form further partnerships with…
… seemingly at the expense of our current, yes we are still part of the EU, partners. And these are partners who we trade with following agreed rules on imports and exports, work-place legislation, safety and safe-guarding at work, social justice, environmental laws and equality legislation. It would appear that we Britons have missed the opportunity to work more closely with our current European partners not just to continue the peace that has led to years of calm plenty but also to act as a progressive union to help change the social injustices in countries such as China.
Mrs May, the unelected Prime Minister, does not have my backing to leave the EU because it does not make sense to do so.
Fortunately now faced with one ridiculous situation it has meant that I have started noticing, this week, as I try to rationalize what Brexit might mean for Britain, other ridiculous, and at times silly happenings in this colourful world around us.
Malaysia has a number of strange customs to do with food, especially the thorny matter of pork. Shunned by devout Muslims there are very strict rules about how pork products can be handled in supermarkets, signage outside restaurants that sell pork and even tax breaks for Halal food stalls. None of these stops the desire for roast pork in Chateau Lawrence. In fact such rules make pork even more desired. On Sunday I got up early and drove to Kepong Baru market, about 5km from our house, with the simple aim to buy a lump of pork. Priced at RM17 per kilo pork is a good value meat and it is sold in the hygienic way that only an outside market in the tropics can do. Get there early for all the obvious reasons. The slow roasted pork that I cooked on Sunday was delicious, but that is not the ridiculous part of the tale. No.
I also bought some fresh chicken too. I know that it was fresh because it was still warm, which had little to do with the air temperature. Keeping Baru market is not a place for the faint hearted and as I got back in to my car, three kilos of pork and three of chicken in my cool bag, I noticed that on the opposite side of the road to me was the market chicken slaughterer. He was slaughtering his fowl in the approved Halal style, with a swift slit to the throat, one bird at a time, but there was one important factor that might have brought into question whether the process was fully accurate. Just after adjusting his baseball cap and fake football shirt he shoved a lit cigarette into his mouth and set about processing one bird at a time. I don’t know whether he was actually good at his job in religious terms, it must be hard to mumble spiritual words over a squawking chicken and not drop your fag out of your mouth, but somehow he managed it. He also managed to slaughter a dozen chickens without the need to adjust the fag at all.
In further ridiculous news and as a further excuse for not writing many blogs recently the children and I and Lexi enjoyed watching as much of the Olympic Games as we could. We cheered for various swimmers, athletes and other sports people and were even glued to the screen watching Lee Chong Wei, Malaysia’s badminton supremo, come close to gold. We did, though, decide that Olympic competitions would benefit from an addition to its extensive programme in the form of the Ridiculous Pentathlon. There appears to be very little that is modern about the Modern Pentathlon so various small Lawrenes and big ones alike have decided that the following five events should come together to really stretch the sporting and ridiculousness abilities of all people…
…The first event should be the pole vault. Charging along a runway clutching a long stick in one’s hand before shoving it in a hole and then attempting to ping yourself over a bar while upside down and many metres off the ground is pure ridiculousness and should only be attempted by people who have taken leave of their senses and replaced them with a long bendy cane.. The second event in The Ridiculous Pentathlon, coming as quickly as possible after the pole vault is of course dressage. No one seems to know what it actually is, but wearing the right hat and trousers while attempting to get a horse to do things that it doesn’t appear to be able to do naturally is just silly.
Next it is on to event three, and here the order is very important. Fresh from pole vaulting and walking a horse our sports-person should next swim the 400m backstroke. Why is this ridiculous? Well the event requires swimmers to charge up and down a swimming as fast as they can, backwards. No other events seem to glory in people being able to do things the wrong way round so the backstroke must be in, especially doing it for so long a distance, which is in itself ridiculous.
Two events to go and by now our competitors will be tiring. To help them event four will help them get in touch with their creative and artistic sides as they compete in the ribbon / string waving gymnastics event. I am not sure of its exact title, but while waving a stick with a tail in the air might look pretty it is certainly well suited be part of The Ridiculous Pentathlon.
The final event has to be a running event, as tradition dictates in all —thlons, and nothing could be more daft than the 3000m steeple chase. I don’t know what the exact definition of an athletic steeple is but it does seem daft to place hefty barriers and a ford in the way of people running long distances.
The gold medalist in The Ridiculous Pentathlon would be a true, if a little daft, champion, and I commend this combination of activities to the Olympic organisers.
In other sporting news Trixie is really enjoying her preparations for the year five cross-country race and has been putting the miles in around Desa Park City. She is tackling it with the seriousness that only a year five girl can. Rupert has survived his first two days in year seven and has a new uniform with plenty of growing room. His shorts are anything but