Goldfish a la Carte

goldfish

As a journalist, my role was often to point out the nakedness of certain emperors. My sole aptitude for the position was a modicum of common sense. Armed with it, I could out-think many politicians, judges and CEOs whose proximity to their realms had disabled their critical faculties.

Three stories reported last week made my common sense tingle. The first was a story headlined “Drink dare man fined for downing goldfish”. In summary: a drunk salesman had swallowed a live goldfish in response to a dare. He was hunted down and taken to court by the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, formerly a charity, but now the army of politically correct oafdom.

RSPCA chief inspector Michelle Charlton said of the salesman: “A vet report advised that the stomach would be a completely unsuitable place for a goldfish and that the goldfish would have died in time”.

No Clothes part 1: The RSPCA paid a vet to state the obvious. Without any veterinary training whatsoever, I could have written that report.

The salesman had owned the goldfish for some months and thought it was dying, so he had decided to flush it down the toilet. Instead, he swallowed it. No Clothes part 2: had he flushed the goldfish down the toilet, no crime would have been committed. No Clothes part 3: had he fried the fish and eaten it with tartare sauce, or sliced it up and called it sushi, no crime would have been committed.

As it was, the man was fined more than $1,200 for swallowing a fish, which he could have achieved at a restaurant around the corner from my apartment for less than 10 bucks, with no criminal record and French fries thrown in. Part of the penalty the Court imposed was a “victim surcharge” of £30 ($50), which would have been, paid, one imagines, to the goldfish’s next of kin. No Clothes part 4: Pick anything you like; the whole business is too stupid for words.

The second article referred to the world’s first “throuple”, three women who had all married each other in Massachusetts. A photograph showed them all in wedding dresses on their big day and now they’re having a baby.

No clothes part 5: In society, structure matters. Without it, we could all drive on whichever side of the road we preferred, with obvious consequences. If three women can marry each other and have children, there can no longer be any such thing as society. It’s everyone for him- or herself.

Finally, it has been decided that people who live in Cornwall, a south-western corner of England, are a separate race. Calling someone a “Cornish twerp” is now legally racist, punishable by jail time, especially if they happen to be a Cornish twerp. No Clothes Part 6: the Cornish are not a racial group; they’re largely twerps. No Clothes part 7: our laws are apparently being made by others who are all twerps.

If things are this absurd now, can you begin to imagine what sort of world people will be living in by, say, 2050?

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