Monday, 22 November 2010

The Do-do Principle In Action

Well, life in the Witangemot puppet show certainly gets lively these days. A distinguished young advisor to the Tree/Liberationist alliance has been given his marching orders - despite having been hailed as a guiding light when he was first appointed. I heard that he publicly stated that we've never had it so good here in Northumbria; he also made reference to the 'so-called recession.' So, why did he get the heave-ho from Caedmeron? With one accord the soothsayers are saying that he was a very haughty, nasty fellow who was talking bombastic nonsense. Of course we're in a deep financial crisis, they say. Look at the numbers of hovel improvement pack inspectors, fish quota accountants and cat registrars who are now out of work. This is a calamity of unparalleled proportions.

As I wander through Streonaeshalch in this lovely corner of the Northumbrian realm, I can't say that I've seen any vestige of the doom-and-gloom that the soothsayers are talking about; everyone around here lives modestly and works hard. The baker is still making bread, and the butcher is still selling meat for those who can afford it. All the rest are eating fish, which is cheap and in plentiful supply. Caedmon still feeds me fish that he gets from the market by the harbour. The innkeeper is still selling mead and ale at exorbitant prices. Despite the fact that they have 'The Ð Factor' and similar fripperies to entertain them and boost their morale, I can't say the humans are badly off. Nobody's actually starving. Perhaps the sacked young adviser was telling the truth. Telling the truth in public can land you in the stuff that happens: Caedmon told me that when I was a kitten, and I've no reason to disbelieve it.

It would appear that the financial calamities that have beset the Northumbrian populace have also been occurring elsewhere; over in Ireland they've had to rely on the Holy Roman Empire (which is neither holy nor Roman) to help bail them out of yet another financial crisis and to bring them into a state of subjection. One of the monks at the Abbey is Irish, and he's heard regularly from his relatives over there, so I get plenty of updates. Isn't it strange that things can change so quickly - and all from the public pronouncements of some play-acting political leaders? Caedmeron let the mouse out of the bag when he said that the smelly brown stuff happens. Over here - and over in Ireland it's been given every encouragement to happen. And I know who's making sure it happens. They can fool other humans - but they can't fool a cat.

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