Some years ago I took a friend to a country pub for lunch. I asked him what he wanted to drink and he said a glass of dry white wine. At the bar I ordered his wine and, for myself, a double gin and tonic. Did I get a blast from the hatchet-faced old trout behind the bar!
“I’ve done the Course in the Responsible Sale and Service of Alcohol and I am not permitted to serve you a double spirit,” she hissed. Very, very school-marmy stuff. Now I’m an adult and I don’t like being spoken to as if I am a naughty child. Or worse, some sort of moral leper or social degenerate. So I re-ordered the glass of wine, and a gin and tonic and a straight gin, no ice. When she plonked them on the counter I poured the straight gin into the gin and tonic. The old girl was well nigh apoplectic, as one expects from a bully defied.
Now the white wine was served in a glass with that little frosted line about a third of the way up. You have noticed those, I am sure. Someone in the Office of Let’s Interfere In People’s Lives And Control Them came up with this ‘policy initiative’ and the rest of us came to heel like well trained dogs and accepted it. After all, it’s not my responsibility whether I drink to excess. In this day and age, the State has decided to take up the task of protecting me from myself, us from ourselves. I am here simply to obey; as we do with most things our Elites tell us we must do today.
The Little Line On The Wine Glass is indicative of the world we live in and accept, mostly without question. It’s a world of constant interference in our lives by governments, self-appointed betters, victim groups against whom no adverse comment is permitted, teachers, university lecturers and those awful people on breakfast TV shows, videotic screechers who insist on telling us what can and cannot be put in a kid’s school lunch box. In short, we have allowed ourselves to become a society of infantilised, brow beaten , subservient wimps — ordered about and regulated at every turn, mostly by those on government payrolls. Fancy a little fresh air and exercise on your socially isolated bicycle? Better put that helmet on or you’ll pretty soon be in close proximity to the policeman writing you a ticket. Australians, unlike every other bike rider in the world, need to be told how to dress.
What’s the result of all this? Well, when we have to behave like mature adults, able to think and decide for ourselves, as in this present situation — how do so many of us react? Like the small children in adults’ bodies we’ve been forced for decades to become. decades.
As the restrictions imposed by the coronavirus begin to impact, some are not coping; some are behaving outrageously; some are in melt-down; some are panicking because many of us have long ago evaded the responsibility to think and act for ourselves. As such, we’ve forgotten how to be adults because we only know what it’s like to live in Big Nanny’s ever present shadow, expecting to have things done for us and to us. We gave the State that power by not standing up for ourselves and telling its operatives to keep their faces and and interference out of our wine glasses and lives.
Now many of us feel powerless. Is it any wonder?