I’m all about freedom of speech, I said as much the other day. Remember? (The Pussy Riot entry for example, but I don’t make no show of it.)
I think it’s fair to say I have been targeted by the starlings* of Hough End because of this. I went for a very muggy run this afternoon and schools (if that is the word) of swallows were attacking me in formation. They were going really fast, diving at (quite near) me as I slowly circled the football pitches. At first I reacted as any grown man would. I shrieked and jumped out of the way like a Lion was attacking me.
Then I manned up: the next one that came near me was only greeted with a small scream. And then I shouted fuck off. Not fuck off in the way an Olympics hooligan** might shout at an innocent victim of their Olympic marauding – through a quiet town centre, on a quiet afternoon. More fuck off in the way an angry – but not remotely intimidating – teenage emo might shout at their parent putting a Coldplay CD on***.
It wasn’t an effective deterrent. Their continued attacks seemed to say “yeah man your blogs rip to the core off stuff and tell the establishment like it is but the man don’t like it and the man says we have to kill you – TO DEATH” (if five or six small birds flying slightly near a man with the weight of a heavyweight boxer – but the height of a Robbie Corbett – can say such a thing). I needed to think. And think fast. Or clap my hands really loudly.
I clapped my hands really loudly. They dispersed. Fuck you society, I will continue to smash the hollow preconceptions of society with my truth mallett. But then they came back. Either that or I had been running near one group and a bit later I was running near another group. But….two groups of birds flying about on one large open patch of grass? Unlikely. It was definitely the second wave from this fearless group of birds intent on doing the only thing they know: killing humans.
My clever ‘clapping counter-attack’ didn’t work a second time. They just carried on flying near enough for me to scream as though my life was in danger but not near enough to me to do the maximum possible damage they could do (their own death? a mild blemish that wouldn’t even be classed as a bruise?) All I could manage was screaming in fear again and running a bit like I was avoiding bombs. Oh and I was still trying to clap really loudly to scare them away again – in case they stopped not being scared of it. They didn’t stop being scared of it. So, there was just a 34-year-old man running away from several small birds shouting fuck off like an angry teenager being asked to do the washing-up….clapping really loudly.
And the large man I walked past feeding his dog raw mincemeat looked AT ME like I was the one doing something odd.
*I’m not an expert on birds; I don’t even know what an ornithologist is.
**I think they give the Olympics a bad name personally.
***To understand the tone of this I shall elaborate further; the parents of this emo are very relaxed with their child and give it respect and treat it with maturity, they are ok with it swearing and so though the swearing is an expression of anger it is not one fuelled by anything more than misplaced anger at a difference in musical taste with its parents.
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I intended this to be bit of a parable about the Julian Assange thing but I realised that although I am hilarious and intelligent it wasn’t really going to work as – even figuratively – I didn’t want to be ‘the Julian Assange’ character in anything. So, that explains the freedom of speech stuff at the beginning. Also, less morally, the all the stuff about running away from the birds was true and – I think – is funny. Though the birds could be symbolic of the (ruddy) police and lawyers pursuing a man to stand the charges of raping two women nothing else that actually happened fitted symbolically with the rest of a man trying to use his asseveration that the American government don’t like him as an excuse to not stand trial for sexual crimes against women. And inventing something wouldn’t really be funny.