Because Blogger's "Adult warning" often goes into a perpetual loop (isn't working properly), I will be making all new posts at my WordPress blog. You can follow it even if you do not have a WordPress Account. There're also my Twitter and my Tumblr blog, my Facebook and my Google+ page and my group.
(Update: Blogger hasn't fixed its problem with the "adult warning". Will go back to posting at my WordPress blog)

Monday, February 16, 2009


Grief is the big no-no in our society. The Victorians wallowed in grief, and pretended sex didn't exist, even covering their table legs because bare legs were immodest. We do the opposite. Sex is everywhere and is used to sell everything. But if you grieve, you must "get over it". "It's time you got a new girlfriend" people have told my best friend, whose wife died nearly a year ago. "Your grief is selfish", his family have said.

They are embarrassed at his pain. They want to be able to stop worrying about him. They want him to be happy. Never mind that he lived with her for 30 years, that they were a devoted and very happy couple. Never mind that without her he is incomplete. Broken. Devastated. No, he must be happy. For them.

I grieve at his wife's loss, and I grieve for my dear friend Henrik, who died a few months ago. I don't believe grief ever goes away. But in our society we have to pretend that it has gone away, that we are "over it". It's almost more perverted than the Victorian aversion to sex. Both are part of life. We love, and those we love die or leave us. So we grieve. It's natural. But the do-gooders tell us we need counselling and drugs, to make us feel "better". Being unhappy is the great sin today. It embarrasses and annoys everyone. Be happy. Or else.

What brought this on is the news that my sister-in-law is today taking their very beloved dog to the vet to be "put down" (and why the horrid euphemism? Tell it like it is: killed) I know the dog well. She's a gorgeous, friendly intelligent Staffie, with a lovely nature. And the sorrow at her death has made me weep again for the loss of those I've loved, human or animal. But we are allowed to grieve for a pet -- as long as we get a new one, quicksticks. We are allowed to cuddle our dogs but not our friends ("too gay, mate"). Odd, isn't it, how a new grief reminds you of old griefs, while new happiness is unique? Here's to Pundi. I shall miss you.

Sometimes I feel so alien to the rest of mankind, as if I were truly from Aldebaran III, and were watching the antics of some exotic species, not my own.

Well, I suppose I'd better start getting over it, hey?


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