Sinister: Do you enjoy mopping?

Jonathan Howell ojh9 at xxx.uk
Wed Jun 13 00:09:23 BST 2001


Hello again.

I haven't posted for a while, but not much has been going on. I thought of
something I'd like to write today, but it got a little long in the writing.
Unless you're in a kind and indulgent mood then please don't read past the
barrier, which is made up of three *s, instead just move on to whatever
comes next in your life.

Content(?): How do you all feel Jonathan David compares to Legal Man.  One
of my friends who loves legal man sent me a message yesterday saying that
he'd heard the new offering and (to quote him) 'oh dear'.  Now not that I
didn't like Legalman, but personally I think Jonathan David is far better...
It also has better B-sides. I think I could agree with idleberry on this
one, as I might even prefer the B-sides to the single. [Hey, is it small 'i'
when it's idleberry and large when it's Idles?, or should I not pay
attention to such things?]

Christians: Is it me or are they bad at grammar.  One of my friends assures
me that WWJD stands for 'What Would Jesus Do'...  why, he'd use a question
mark, that's what he'd do.  She let me tippex a question mark onto her
bracelet (thingy) but it went wrong and ended up as a bit of a blob instead.
I'm not sure she was too impressed.  Perhaps it should stand for 'We Whistle
Jonathan David' or something.

Thanks muchly for the gig reviews...  they've been cheering me up.

On with the stuff...

Love (gift-wrapped, with a card and on your doorstep when you get home).

Jonny.

***
You might think me mad... but today I had a conversation witth a weed, and
then I did my best to kill it.  I'm not proud of this, this isn't me going
"Hey look at me, I'm hard, I can kill plants", in fact it's quite the
opposite, it's a sort-of-confession thing.

Before I begin, I'd like to write a little (just a little) on talking to
weeds.  This isn't something I've done before, it wasn't even something I
expected to do, it just sort of happened.  Several theories have been
suggested... perhaps I'm ging mad, perhaps I was just a little bored, or
perhaps I really did talk to the plant.  Of course these theories have come
only from me; I'll be damned if I'm going to be telling any people who I
have real-life contact with anything like that.

The weed was loitering with intent outside my new place of work (a well
known DIY store) in my home town of H-.  It had hanging about there for a
while, it looked fairly menacing.  I clearly wasn't the only person who'd
noticed it because my boss mentioned it.

"J-." He said "I'd like you to get rid of the weeds around the carpark".

So, I pulled on my armour of gardening gloves, picked up my trusty trowel
and marched into battle.  As I dispatched the weeds one by one, I noticed
one little fellow trying to grow out of the concrete, between the road and
the wall.  This of course isn't the best place for a weed to grow... it
doesn't provide much soil or water, and I felt quite sorry for the little
guy.

'Little weed' I thought to myself 'Why do you grow there, in such a horrible
place? Surely you'd be better growing somewhere else.'

Then to my utmost surprise I heard him answer. 'Why, but it isn't horrible,
it's my home'.

'Yes, but little weed, If you grow there I shall have to pick you. Then, if
you grow back, next week I'll have to pick you again. Doesn't that make it a
silly place to grow?' I suggested mentally.

'A silly place indeed' the plant replied 'but you see, I have no choice but
to grow here, this is where my roots have settled, and I'm utterly incapable
of moving. I will die if I leave here'

Now I realised that we were at an impass.

'Oh, but I have no choice either.  I have been told to pick you, and pick
you I must.  If I don't then I shall lose my job'.

Then I plucked the little weed (or as much of it as I could) out of the
ground (his wee roots remained).  As I did this the weed said one last
thing.

'Really? So will you die if you don't pick me?' and he said it with total
bitterness, which was a surprise as his tone had been very polite before.

I realised later that the weed was right.  I wouldn't have died if I hadn't
picked him... in fact I doubt my boss would have minded just the one stray
weed.  More importantly... He isn't a weed in  his own eyes.  He's only a
weed to us, because we don't like him and don't want him to be there.  Is it
really his fault that we decided to put a DIY store there? Perhaps in his
mind we're the weeds.

I looked into the plastic bag I was carrying (now a cemetary of dead weeds)
and resolved that if a little weed grows back in that spot (where his roots
remain even now) then I shall not kill him, for he has no choice.  As for
the others, I know it won't kill me to not pick them, but I really would
like to keep my job.  Besides, I'm not entirely sure that any of them have
feelings like that other little weed.  Perhaps I could ask for someone else
to do the gardening next time.

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