Kony 2012

If the roles were reversed how much compassion do you think you would be shown. Far less I suggest. This I why when they claim asylum, as soon as they scramble over into a western country they have a complete desregard for those they left behind.

It is always best to view things dispassionately. Most people say they care but you don’t see them running to join oxfam, greenpeace or some other extraneous organisation.

There is a poem from my youth by Carol Ann Duffy which I referred to recently. Suprising that I was able to remember it given the amount of alcohol o have consumed in the intervening period. Im looking for it now. Read it carefully:

In his darkroom he is finally alone
with spools of suffering set out in ordered rows.
The only light is red and softly glows,
as though this were a church and he
a priest preparing to intone a Mass.
Belfast. Beirut. Phnom Penh. All flesh is grass.

He has a job to do. Solutions slop in trays
beneath his hands which did not tremble then
though seem to now. Rural England. Home again
to ordinary pain which simple weather can dispel,
to fields which don’t explode beneath the feet
of running children in a nightmare heat

Some thing is happening. A stranger’s features
faintly start to twist before his eyes,
a half-formed ghost. He remembers the cries
of this man’s wife, how he sought approval
without words to do what someone must
and how the blood stained into foreign dust.

A hundred agonies in black – and – white
from which his editor will pick out five or six
for Sunday’s supplement. The reader’s eyes prick
with tears between the bath and pre-lunch beers.
From the aeroplane he stares impassively at where
he earns a living and they do not care.