The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2519 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad

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“Cathy, who do you think you are?” asked Simon. Our discussion hadn’t gone as I’d intended, in fact the opposite had happened and it had gone severely off course. “You’re not some moral guardian of the university. From what you’ve said it sounds as if this man is extremely dangerous and needs to be left to the police to investigate. It certainly isn’t your job—yours is to corrupt young minds, by filling them full of images of cute furry things.”

“According to James, the man is protected from them by the corruption that exists in the Met and government.”

“So people are watching his back, are they?”

“James seems to think so.”

“I’ll give him a shout tomorrow and try and arrange a meeting with one of our auditors. The man knows finance law inside out and if there’s a way of exposing him to the FCA, he’ll know it. I want you to promise me not to interfere until I get the advice of our forensic auditor.”

I wanted to talk about something less painful or go to sleep, in the end the latter won and I zonked waking the following morning to hear that over a hundred children had been killed by the Taliban in Pakistan. Words failed me. It was so mediaeval, one sect massacring another.

I really felt that religion was a poor excuse to commit any sort crime although all sorts of denominations justified their actions through their god. As an agnostic and parent, I felt outraged. I am sure that moderate muslims and other faiths would be equally disgusted by this inhuman bloodshed. I seem to recollect a slaughter of the innocents from an earlier period under a certain King Herod or so we are led to believe.

Is history repeating itself, particularly with regard to a certain New Testament character. The sad thing is that as nothing has changed fundamentally in two millennia, the same outcome may follow which could result in zealots from some new sect were being persecuted only for them to persecute others fifteen hundred years later. It feels like a cross between groundhog day and some weird astrological prognostication.

A quick glance, a little later, at the news headlines and it was certain that Christmas was near. Some lunatic in Sydney had held hostages causing three people to die. In the States, some nutter had killed six people including his ex-wife, all from her family. One day, people will stop abusing each other. I can guarantee it. I predict it will be the day our species, Homo stupidus, becomes extinct. Possibly the sooner it happens, the better.

On my way to the university, it looked as if the most viewed things on the internet were horrible things like Putin’s pet tiger eating some poor dog or some murder or other—you know the sort, ‘exclusive pictures inside the school in Pakistan, where the blood was still running down the stairs’. Because large numbers of us have been desensitised to slaughter, by the media, computer games or films, or simply by being total psychopaths, we seem to enjoy being titillated by sights of such things.

I remember being on the scene of a stabbing several years ago where a young man died because of the paranoid delusions of another. The amount of blood was astonishing, and it was still in puddles or little rivulets. It was truly terrible and it fills me with sadness even to this day. Why anyone should go in pursuit of such things completely baffles me, but huge numbers do.

I expect the coffee shop in Sydney where that tragedy occurred will be a new tourist site for visiting ghouls. I hope each one of them will have nightmares for a long time to come.

We talk about civilisations, ancient or otherwise, meaning the organisation of people and resources for their mutual benefit under a regime of laws and so on. I see it as something to which we might aspire, because we’re still controlled by biological urges for power or wealth, sex or security. The latter isn’t possible because of the others and it appears that people will renege on any agreement if it suits their own agendas.

The Taliban is driven by fear. Fear that it might lose control over people, especially women, who it fears for all sorts of reasons, but especially female sexuality. It fears educated women because they become free thinkers and are even harder to control. Essentially, because of its repressive nature towards half its population, it carries the seeds of its own demise. It might seem impressive because of its record of brutality and cruelty, but ultimately, it will fail. Some women have been educated, others have learnt that they could be educated and thus freer. The rot has started, the Taliban will fall because no matter what weapons cave men have they won’t survive against the human urge to learn.

Ultimately, education should either reform society by peaceful means or show oppressed people the wrongs of their oppressors and foment rebellion or revolt. Unless of course the oppressors get sneaky like the Catholic church, which still represses the role of women but gets involved in all sorts of so called good works. Perhaps the Presidents Obama and Castro could negotiate with the Pope for the introduction of women priests and bishops as per the original Christian church in Rome.

The lights on the road works changed and a toot from behind me brought me out of my reverie and back to my everyday life. The traffic crawled once again and I eventually arrived at my office to begin another day of letters, accounts and assessments of students who were deemed to have failed the standard to continue their studies. We would call them in for interview and unless they did some very fast talking or showed greater commitment would be discharged from the course. It was my signature that would be on that letter. It really pained me to do it. We did give them a chance to redeem themselves but most didn’t bother.

I reflected upon my thoughts from that morning as Delia made me a cup of tea. I acknowledged that I was an unadulterated idealist and it might be even loosely considered that what I dreamt of could be seen as building a heaven on earth. I believe someone else preached about that many years ago. Thomas called him a Teacher of Men. I’m a teacher of men and women...oops.