Yes, they most definitely do, and there’s zip all you can do to convince me otherwise.
Come to think of it, you shouldn’t attempt to convince me at all.
See, I’m a sensitive soul, who takes umbrage easily, and God only knows what I would do if you picked an argument with me on this one.
You may, on the other hand, try to understand the nature of my statement.
How? I sense you ask…
Simple.
Given the notion that there is usually a damn good reason for just about anything, it may perhaps spring to your clouded mind to investigate the roots of the matter first.
If done correctly, this course of action may well produce surprising results.
You never know. But, I repeat, it must be done correctly.
Well, how then?
All right.
Let’s start with the basics.
I’ll set up a little scenario to help you grasp matters more easily, ok?
To start with, I’ll give us both names.
Let’s see… I’ll be MARTIN!
Yes, that’s good, ‘cause it’s not too fancy and not too common either.
Unless, of course, you’re from East Sussex, where Martins are fifty to a penny.
You won’t believe how many bleeding Martins I know down there.
One day I might introduce you to a few of them and then you’ll understand what it’s like to be confused.
Anyway, I’m Martin too, now.
I’ll call you… Trevor.
And we’ll assume that you’re from South London.
Camberwell maybe, or Peckham, if you like. You choose.
Ok… Hello Trevor.
At this point you say ‘hello’ back (because it’s the polite thing to do) and then sit back patiently, so I can explain to you what’s going to happen next.
I’m going to write a dialog between you and me.
You read it, then think a bit, and if you’re not a complete dodo you might see the light.
Not a big, huge, piss off neon light.
Perhaps not even a 40 watts light bulb, but at least you won’t feel as if you’re in a coal cellar with a balaclava on the wrong way round.
Ok, ready? Here we go.
Martin – PIGS FLY!
Trevor – Begging your pardon, sir… I didn’t quite catch that. Could you please repeat?
Martin – Pigs fly.
Trevor – I see…. Really?
Martin – They do.
Trevor – That’s interesting.
Martin – Is it?
Trevor – Well, it is…. I suppose…
Martin – Why?
Trevor – Er…. Dunno, really.
Martin – You don’t know? Do you usually say things for no reason?
Trevor – No, really…. Well, I just said it was an interesting concept ….I don’t know. I think I made a mistake….
Martin – A mistake? What mistake?
Trevor – No, really. I was just being polite.
Martin – So if I were to tell you that you were a brainless git you’d be telling me that it was an interesting fact just because it’s polite to acknowledge a statement, right?
Trevor – Well… I don’t know about that…
Martin – Let’s try! You’re a BRAINLESS GIT
Trevor – Pardon?
Martin – You’ve heard. You’re a brainless git.
Trevor – Why?
Martin – Because I think you are.
Trevor – That’s not a nice thing to say!
Martin – Nevertheless, it is my honest opinion. Come to think of it,I also happen to believe that you are an utter imbecile, acomplete fool, the champion of moronity.
Trevor – I say! That’s very RUDE! How can you be so rude to me? I did nothing!
Martin – Exactly! You did bugger all to question my statement and focused on feeling sorry for yourself instead.
Trevor – I did?
Martin – You did.
Trevor – But you started on me!
Martin – Did I? When?
Trevor – When I told you that the notion of pigs flying was interesting.
Martin – Interesting to whom?
Trevor – To me, of course!
Martin – Who gives a damn about you?
At this point, Trevor (that’s you) takes a hyper jump to Coventry and sits on a lonely bench to ponder about the unfairness of life.
He ponders and ponders, until all aspects of his ridiculous existence have been thoroughly out-pondered. Then he completely breaks down.
He screams dementedly at the top of his voice, searching for the most vitriolic insults.
He doesn’t care about the throng of people that, attracted by the sudden noise have gathered in a curious circle around him.
He doesn’t see them, actually.
All he can see is thousands of pigs, streaking across the sky, doing cartwheels just above the cathedral.
And all he can hear is Martin’s voice – calm, collected and painfully clear.
“Told you so…..”
