Mr Tiggywinkle visits...

Got very excited at a hedgehog spending the night in my garden, I feel something of an affinity with him... ambling around in no particular direction, mostly surrounded by pricks, and wanting to curl up into a ball and hope things will go away.

Casey Haynes, Hero?

By now you will have all seen the video, the discussions and the accusations that are being thrown around the world regarding the events it contains.

Much has been written, by both hobbyist and professional alike, as to the actions taken by both children. However on a personal note it sparked a memory whilst also showing both how the world has changed, and stayed the same.

As with anyone who may be "different" in some way, be it something as simple as hair colour, wearing glasses or being a different shape, bullying is something I have experienced as a child. In my case, given my difference was being a giant and gentle tempered, I was evidently an easy target for bullies who also made them look tough in front of their peers given my stature.

Oddly, as I have grown much further into adulthood, I have noticed the occurrences reduced to nonexistence since reaching 6'8 and being decidedly less timid (apart from the occasional poorly targeted incomprehensible shout from drunken fool, usually from a nice safe distance..)

However, in the early 80's I had no such advantage and happily believed my elders and betters that I should not rise to the matter and merely tell a teacher or suitable member of staff. However, after quite some time my young brain made it's first connection between being told something and anything actually occurring as a result of it. (I fear this may also have sown the seeds of my general lack of regards for authority where I see it to be of no use.)

So as clothes were ripped, knees were scuffed, blood was lost and my name appeared in the accident book more than anyone else had ever achieved... I realised that no amount of telling would actually achieve anything..

I'm sure you will be amazed to hear that, soon after having a minor set to with my main protagonist whilst a little too close to a wire re-enforced window which was evidently broken with a body part not belonging to me...., the bullying stopped.

This brings me to the way things have changed. I see a certain comparison in a way with the subject of this youtube hit, but for me there were no camera phones, no worldwide audience. It was a regrettable event, but one that quickly passed into history with little more consequence.

Now Casey Haynes is being held both as a Hero for all the outsider kids in the world who have ever had some petty little prick decide they would make their life hell, and a villain for retaliating and not just "telling someone". This at least appears to have stayed the same stance from when I had my incident.

I may have a vested interest in the concept of "telling" and it's merits, or lack thereof, but I think perhaps it is quite easy for anyone who has not been punched repeatedly whilst a group of people look on to take the moral high ground.

In addition, there seems to be more of a culture of inclusion rather than exclusion (as with schools not removing problem kids as not fair on them, even to the extent of having "time out" cards so those less able to control themselves can be excused and not have to behave decently like the rest of the class) so I am not convinced it would have improved the situation... The old "short sharp shock" certainly seems to have happened in this case, and I can only hope Casey is allowed to get back to normality

Because at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what the reason is, victims of bullying always seem to come out worse whether they follow the official method or opt for a more direct approach. I am glad my situation was so different, as at no point did I feel like a hero or a villain, I was just reacting to a situation which then passed.

I imagine that Casey would have just wanted to be left alone by the bullies and get on with his life, a pity then that the unwanted attention of the bullies may have been replaced by the eyes of the world.

Furthermore...

Oddly, the previous post was not the most shocking element of the day, that was reserved for the full horror that is known as the "Shoe Galleries" in Selfridges.

As a heterosexual male, I hasten to add this visit was primarily at the behest of my female companion although I wont deny a certain disturbed curiosity in something with such a grand title. Dear reader if you have not sampled this unique experience, allow me to provide an aid to your understanding. Imagine, if you will, the dankest weights room populated with a selection of men with no neck and an excess of muscle. The air is thick with the musky scent of man, as if testosterone had been atomised.

The "Shoe Galleries" are the nearest Female approximation of this, in terms of the heavy cloying atmosphere of frenzied female foot fetishists. In addition the many and varied perfumes accompanying these women on their seemingly unending quest for foot-based perfection reduce the volume of breathable air to that of Everest. (It is fortunate that smoking is not permitted in such a location as I imagine the resulting fireball would level half of Oxford Street)

I can safely say, at no prior time in my life have I felt so out of place for having my genitalia on the outside of my body.

I worry....

Having had the pleasure of witnessing a supposedly well-to-do woman carrying a small scrap of a dog in her handbag (something I had always believed to be a myth dreamt up by TV producers and publicists) I have finally come to the conclusion that it is in fact not me that is mad, it genuinely is everybody else.

After idly wondering about the technicalities of the animals excreta, I was advised by my companion that "they wear a nappy". So we have evolved the the point as a species where an indication of social status is having an animal with legs, carried around in a bag and gently infusing the finest Italian leather with a subtle hint of canine caca.