Keen observers of all things Mr Kissyfur will recall that I was in Malaysia earlier this year, and whilst there I saw my first corpse. Someone had been knocked off their moped and their body was lying by the central reservation. What really struck me was the absolute indifference of everybody to this, both the policemen stood by the corpse looking utterly disinterested, even bored, and the people driving past, who saw this as nothing more than an impediment to them getting where they wanted to go. Something about this really stuck with me, not in a PTSD-zomgees-I-saw-a-corpse-give-me-compensation way, but just the isolation of everyone concerned – the dead guy being all but invisible, and everyone else concerned being so wrapped up in their own worlds that this corpse didn’t exist in any meaningful way.
John Donne may have come up with a pithy wee ditty with “No man is an island”, but I’m not sure it’s true, if ever it was. We are all islands, or at least small enclaves, and people exist like that perfectly happily, and certainly act in a way consistent with everyone else being nothing more than wallpaper to their lives, whether a metaphorical promontory is washed away or not. People seem to have no real regard for anyone outside of their immediate circle of family, friends and, at most, colleagues. From the lack of an acknowledgement when someone holds a door open, or barging past people, the random abuse in the street or from a driver, or talking on a mobile phone whilst at the checkout in Sainsbury’s, people seem all too happy to pretend that people just don’t exist as actual individuals, with lives, feelings, hopes, dreams, outside of that enclave of the known. People seem to exist in a sealed bubble that’s just big enough to include them and their family and friends, and seems to preclude any acknowledgement of the feelings or thoughts or lives of anyone else.
Someone said on here on that Amy Whinehouse epic thread about how you just can’t get emotionally invested in the deaths of strangers, be they here or thousands of miles away. I think that’s probably fair enough, and if you did open yourself up to caring about that you’d be reduced to gibbering on the floor 24/7 in fairly short order given all of the horror across the world. But we can at least do the people we see or are near the courtesy of acknowledging their very existence, and give them at least a marginal level of courtesy as a result.
I’m not sure what the point of this is, other than a bit of a brain splurge. Perhaps it isn’t like this, and perhaps this is just a call for a bit more courtesy and consideration, and o give me more tempura, but if anecdotes and personal observation can amount to even a small amount of data, we do seem a callous lot. I won’t say more so than we used to be, because there never was a golden age, and at least now I can be assured that me being short sighted won’t lead to me being eaten by tigers.
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