I like these adverts, partly because they give a rare opportunity to use the word bathetic. That’s as in bathos which, according to my dictionary, is the abrupt, unintended transition in style from the exalted to the commonplace, producing a ludicrous effect.
The concept of the sad and neglected vegetables which can be saved for only a few pennies a month is, of course, a pastiche of those solemn advertisements placed by charities in an attempt to wring a few pounds in monthly donations from a television audience perhaps prone to a touch of guilt induced by a sofa-bound existence.
The good news is that apparently we can save them all for £4 a month. For £2 a month we can find a cure for cancer. For £3 we can stop children in our own country from being abused or condemned to life wearing a dirty vest in a darkened room where nobody can hear them cry.
Christmas being a special time of the year, the charities have come up with jolly festive ways of salving the conscience. Buying your mother-in-law a goat is flavour of the month. It’s such a good Christmas party talking point. At least it was when I bought Her Indoors a goat two years ago. Now we can buy a can of worms to help a Bolivian fruit farmer get the proper mulch for his crops.
Or we can endow an entire toilet block in a third world school for £540. I don’t know if it comes complete with a plaque. We can retrain a sex worker to be a hairdresser for £360. Or train a pastor in counselling skills for £134. Frankly, I’d rather retrain a pastor to be a hairdresser and have a bit less of that troublesome religion stuff in the world.
The business of distantly endowing the third world has become much more competitive. Two years ago, my goat from the Scottish International Aid Fund (Sciaf) cost £35. World Vision are now bringing a goat in at £13, while an entire herd can be yours to give to an African family for a mere £91.
There are commodities in the charities’ Christmas catalogue you never imagined you could buy. Sciaf are offering peace. It’s in their online catalogue: “The Gift of Peace. Price: £20. Availability: in stock. Quantity: up to 10.” Just click and add to your basket.
Of course, Sciaf are not promising you world peace for £20. All they are saying is give peace a chance. With your £20, you “can help transform lives by providing counselling for those bereaved and traumatised by war in Burundi and by uniting families in Angola that have been torn apart. Sciaf provides peace education in Colombia and is supporting reconciliation work in the Congo”. Which is a comforting thought.
It’s just that sometimes I feel I am pitching my charity pound into a void. The money I was going to spend on a new TV set but sent to the Tsunami appeal is, I fear, still festering unspent in a bank account somewhere, if it hasn’t been spent on administration or TV adverts. And I’ve still never heard a word from that goat. He never phones. He never emails. Not a bleat about how he’s getting on.
I’m not saying don’t give to these good causes. Give until your bank account runs red. Populate the third world with herds of goats, colonies of worms, and myriad toilet blocks. Retrain pastors like there’s no tomorrow.
But remember, the rest of mankind is not just for Christmas, it’s for life. It’s not just about money. Time and energy used in campaigns and advocacy for human rights carry a higher value. Time spent on simple good works in your own backyard is beyond price.
I should add that this sermon is being delivered from a position of knowledge by a person who is guilty of carrying out few of the above tasks. I am full of good intentions but usually deficient and delinquent when it comes to delivering the goods, apart from buying the odd goat. Next year, I hope to do better.
At Buffer Towers, we face the new year with great confidence and a spring in the step. President Bush has set a date for getting his troops, and presumably our boys, out of Iraq. It is going to happen before November 2006. I read this in Time magazine, so it must be true.
The November deadline has been set because of the US mid-term elections. Apparently George W knows he got away with fooling most of the people most of the time when they voted him in for a second term in 2004 despite the carnage in Iraq. Now he, or more likely the clever people who run him, realise they probably won’t get away with it a second time. I started to read through the Bush government’s strategy documents for disengagement from Iraq but gave up when it became clear the extrication policy is awfy light on detail.
I must confess to be ever so slightly worried about the future for the people of Iraq. It may be something to do with all those body parts littering the streets and the daily assassinations of politicians and any other reasonable citizens who pop their heads above the parapet in an attempt to play a part in the country’s civic life. It may have something to do with the new Iraqi police force and how adept they are at arresting and torturing their compatriots.
I would worry about this kind of stuff. But I am reassured by the words of George W: “Oh, I know some fear the possibility that Iraq could break apart and fall into a civil war. I don’t believe those fears are justified.” Their boys and our boys will all be home by next Christmas, quite a lot of them in body bags.
Getting the shredded onions out from the hollow bits above the bonnet was a bit more difficult but I managed, thanks. In future, Mr Kebab-Chucker, if you have an urgent need to dispose of your kebab, we have quite a big garden into which you can throw it. The seagulls will be eternally grateful.
This is cache, read story here
