Jun 112011
 

In my previous post I described how my twenty-year-old son with passport in tow was told he couldn’t buy a 15-rated film at a local supermarket because he was accompanied by his sixteen-year-old brother who, in the absence of the relevant ID, couldn’t prove his age.  A totally irrelevant and unsustainable request, of course.  The latter having nothing to do with the former.

Anyhow, to this post one of my brothers has just added a wonderful comment which includes this fascinating concept:

You and your family seem genetically pre-disposed to attracting ‘jobsworthy frustrated bureaucrats’ like horse shit is pre-disposed to attracting flies.

Let’s hope that the geneticists find the ‘Kafka gene’ soon so we can screen future generations from this terrible affliction.

Presumably, he means something along the following lines: the “Kafka” gene, in a very 21st century way, is what predisposes some of us to experience the world as a place full of inexplicable stupidity.  Another way, perhaps, in a strange kind of manner, of explaining what in different times and cultures we were inclined to define as “fate”.

If truth be told, I am unsure whether such a gene describes a reality or a perception – but never mind: in this frustratingly post-modern world, who cares any more if the tree makes a noise?  The essence of this particular issue surely lies in the undeniable fact that whilst some of us do experience the world as if we were suffering from the kind of genetic make-up my brother has so astutely identified, the rest of us appear to breeze relatively easily through life without so much as a madly bureaucratic entanglement on the horizon.

In my case I can mention an untold number.  From the time I wanted to start working in Spain (you needed a work visa to get a contract but without a contract you couldn’t get your work visa) to attempting to “import” my humble worldly goods in the face of the bizarre machinations of the Spanish port authorities (I remember on one occasion bringing a printer over the border and having to learn the importance of asserting, with the support and connivance of a kindly border official, that I hadn’t purchased this item but had, rather, been given it as a present); from the time we wanted to give our first-born a Croatian middle name (we were obliged to obtain confirmation from the then-Yugoslav embassy that the name was real and had no equivalent in Spanish) to the day I imagined that an existing contractual relationship with Spain’s main telephone provider would guarantee me a decent Internet connection fifteen kilometres from one of the most important cities in Spain (it didn’t, of course – whilst the frustration which built up over the following three years almost helped bring about my end); from the moment I fell ill with epilepsy and was considered by my GP to be faking it (I’m still on epilepsy medication almost forty years on) to the time I was judged ill enough to enter a psychiatric ward (see previous mention of Internet-connection grief and what this almost did to me) and was then informed on leaving four weeks later that I was only good enough for a maximum of two hours per week voluntary work (I immediately started working for a fast-food restaurant on 20-hour-a-week shifts) … well, I could go on.

But you’ve probably already had enough.

And, in any case, maybe we all could.  Perhaps, here, I am focussing too much on my own dramas – and not understanding enough that this disjunction between reality and perception, between what they say and what they mean, is a pretty common experience for awfully vast swathes of the world’s unhappier populations.

Oh yes, indeed, dear world – it would seem that many of us (though not all) have Kafkaesque genes.

And so it is that I begin to wonder if the “Kafka” gene as a tool to understand what happens to us can’t be applied to other areas of human endeavour.

How about progressive politics for example?  What do you think?  Are the left-wingers amongst us predisposed to understanding and relating to the world in these terms in a way that the right-wingers amongst us are not?  And does this mean we on the progressive end of the political spectrum are not only inevitably condemned to undergo longer periods out of power than in but also to suffer from a generally more uncomfortable upper hand – when, that is, on those very rare occasions, we are fortunate enough to have it?

If your genetic make-up binds you to a view of the world which releases upon you with great ease a sense of rank and outright absurdity, how can you possibly be comfortable with the implications of such power structures?

I know I can’t be.

Does that make me fit for a mental institution then?

What do you think?

Jun 112011
 

This is a small tale, told to me by my two sons.  It happened yesterday, some time in the afternoon.  It took place at our local Morrison’s – for those of you who live in the area, the one situated down by the Bache railway station.  Used to be Safeway’s when we were living in Spain.  We remember it fondly, my wife and I, ‘cos we used to have coffee there those Christmases we came over to visit.

We still have coffee there – on quite an assiduous basis in fact.  But something very silly is beginning to happen.

My eldest, who is twenty, and his brother, who is sixteen, love planning what they call their Saturday “cheat” days.  I’m not sure I entirely approve of these days – but modern life is like that: what parents approve of and what children end up doing are not necessarily ever going to be the same thing.  Anyhow, when he can, the eldest comes down to Chester from his student digs and they go to Morrison’s to do this weekly shop.  A bit of brotherly bonding, I guess.  Most weekends, too, they buy a film – for what would the weekend be these days without a piece of what is essentially a 20th century art form?

This week the film they alighted on was “The Last Samurai”, starring Tom Cruise.  Haven’t seen this film – and according to their version of the story I am about to tell, they almost didn’t get to do so either.  After they’d finished the food side of the shop, they took it and the film to the self-service checkout.  As it was rated a 15, quite reasonably when my eldest scanned the item, a warning came up which said the presence of a shop assistant was required to ensure that an over-15 was buying the product.  My eldest duly presented his passport, and they both thought this would be the end of the matter.  However, the assistant (or maybe the manager by this time – this particular detail of the story isn’t quite as clear as it could have been) then decided she also needed to ask my second son his age.  He said, quite truthfully, that he was sixteen.  Unfortunately, he didn’t have his identification – and so, madly enough, the assistant (or maybe the manager) refused to allow the film to be purchased.

My eldest then decided to try a different approach.  My middle son left the shop to see if my eldest could now purchase the blessed piece of intellectual property all by his lonesome.  However, the thought police were out in force and were absolutely clear: because my eldest had been seen with his younger brother, he had now lost his right to purchase a 15 film, even though he had the identification to prove he was over twenty.

Guilt by association?  You bet!  The story, at least for the two of them, ended happily enough: patience being the virtue it is, my eldest managed with what he claims were his Jedi warrior skills to buy the film in the DVD department (where incidentally he wasn’t asked for any ID!), instead of purchasing it at the self-service checkout.

But even so, I find myself asking the following question: by what right do Morrison’s reserve themselves the luxury of refusing to sell a 15-rated film to a twenty-year-old man, simply because he entered the shop with a sixteen-year-old who had no identification?  As my sixteen-year-old quite sensibly pointed out after the event: if his brother had been forty and he had been five, would Morrison’s then have also denied the forty-year-old the right to purchase such a film – or, alternatively, have demanded that the five-year-old be neatly disposed of in some way or another first?

This is surely a crisis of identity we really cannot tolerate.  I will be going to Morrison’s tomorrow to make an official complaint. 

I don’t suppose anything will come of it – but, whether it does or not, I feel obliged to protest the stupidity of the philosophy in operation here: that is to say, those who look young are inevitably irresponsible and those who look old are upstanding citizens.