WE, THE FOLLOWING SHEEP

When I was a boy in school, we had hot meals served to us in the canteen, for which my parents paid one florin each week. I found it natural to eat my meals with my fork in my right hand and the knife in my left.

Also the ‘old’ potatoes they used to serve mashed, had green lumps in it and it made me feel sick, as did the badly cooked Beetroot.

Due to this, a ‘teacher’ stood over me, forcing me to eat with my knife in my right hand and to consume the potatoes and beetroot regardless of how it made me feel. When I refused the teacher a rather large individual would slam his big hands either side of my head over my ears with such force that it left me dazed, while impressing upon me that I must eat “properly.”

It did not matter what I wanted; it was all about conforming; doing the things the same as everyone else; toeing the line; being FULL COCKED and not HALF COCKED.

I was the top boy student in my school a point under the top girl (Margaret Sully) I was quiet and shy and did as I was told often most reluctantly. In my final term before leaving I received 99 out of 100 for Geography, the question marked wrong being naming fruits grown in Australia. (Australia was our Geography for that term)

I had named “Bananas” as one of the fruits. I approached the teacher in protest asking why he had marked me wrong. He said there were no Bananas grown in Australia.

I told him there was; in fact my Uncle who lived there operated a Banana plantation at Coffs Harbour in New South Wales. However because HE had not heard of this HE marked me wrong, and refused to change it despite the extended information I related to him.

My point is, the teacher did not know; he knew he did not know and so did I – but would not admit it because he would have had to accept that he was wrong. My score remained 99. Regardless of the fact that I knew differently; but that did not count.

When one is fined for parking longer than a sign permits, one is doing nothing wrong other than disobeying the sign. It is wrong to disobey the sign even though one is actually doing nothing wrong, according to those who make the laws (for revenue of course).

I mostly eat my meals now with my knife held in my right hand due to it being bashed into my brain as a child, except when it occurs to me that I am so doing then I switch, or discard the knife altogether until required; I think Americans do it that way. In fact Americans seem to do all these things in an opposite way to the European way. I like the American way. It’s a kind of an “up yours jack” way of doing things.

There was a girl “Emily Bishop” who always came to school late. Her father was a brutal man and used to flog his kids relentlessly, not to mention his wife. He was always dressed in a suit of clothes while his wife and kids were clothed in rags.

Emily was never clean and smelt like “biscuits” and always sported a heap of bruises on her body. She was late because of the chores her father set for her before she was allowed to leave and walk through the snow to school.

Despite this she was sent to the headmaster every time she was late, and ruthlessly caned. The headmaster had no interest in Emily Bishop, but the teacher should have, who should have know that Emily was too afraid to admit to what he farther was doing. We all knew, and we were supposed to be ignorant kids.

I can relate many, many stories about the cruelty dished out by teachers. We were forced to attend scripture lessons. From an infant five years old we had the “bible” crammed into our brains. When I left England for Australia I had no idea that there were people in the world who thought about things differently. I believed (or did I) because of fear. The fear of going to this place called Hell.

“You will never go to heaven" was the threat after having the thought of going there embossed on our brains. This is how it’s done; make them believe how good something is then use it as a tool of fear to ensure they don’t step out of line. The military are experts at it.

When in all this was I given the chance to ‘think’ for myself? When was I given the chance just to be me? I still hear people saying we all have choices. Choices! What choices?

Today I see all those little free children running around dressed in the same uniforms, one indistinguishable from another, uniforms disguising their true characters and denying spontaneity.

We trusted those lewd predator Priests hiding behind their stolen pagan gowns. We thought that in some way they were made pure by God in order to carry His work. How little we knew. How little we know. We are still bound by fear to superstition. We the following sheep

©Copyright January 24, 2008 by Colin F. Jones