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The Madness of King George
November is a fabulous month for gripers, groaners, and grumpy geriatric gents. Even if King George III had not had a marble out of place in the head department this is the time of the year that would surely have tipped him over the edge.
For one thing the nights are long and the days short, the weather is invariably miserable (unless global warming kicks in like it did in the summer). As if this was not enough, as soon as the shops have cleared their shelves of the nauseating tat of vampires teeth and witches hats they begin to stock up with piles of overpriced goodies for the forthcoming season. All we can look forward to is shopping to a solid six weeks of musak based on red nosed reindeers and the like.
Lunatics with fire crackers will be roaming the darkened streets from now until Hogmanay. As if this isn't enough to fray the nerves, when the temperatures plummet the strain on central heating systems causes them to break down just at the time when there is not a plumber to be had this side of Gdansk. Those who were prudent enough to have flu jabs in October will discover that they are totally ineffective against the common cold.
However cold, ill, depressed, or demoralised we might be in this most miserable of all months, there is one Sunday therein which should make us thank God that we are alive to enjoy complaining about it. The war in Iraq was started by an American president who would make King George III look a model of sanity. Our young men and young women went out there and died. Over in Afghanistan they are struggling to prevent terrorist outrages spreading to our shores. As with Iraq, their bodies are being returned in increasing numbers to their grieving families. Meanwhile, back at home, the nation is concerning itself with trivia and reality TV. Remember, remember not the 5th of November but those who are fighting for us now, those who made the supreme sacrifice in conflicts past, and those whose wounds have never healed. On Remembrance Sunday wear your poppies with pride and shed a tear for the madness of the world.
May God bless you all, Fr. Allan
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