Sunday, 4 February 2018

Kafkania


I just emailed a friend here in Kafkania. When I switched on the news I saw a professor from a neighboring  Kafkaesque republic complaining about the beaurocratic nightmare he and students have to deal with.

I am also having deal with a beaurocratic machine over here. Dealing is the wrong word. Struggling would be more correct. But I will win through at the end of it all.

An international agreement which nobody in Kafkania is aware of (since it's not the function of any particular cog in the wheel to be aware of it)  will be the savior of my sanity, or what's left of it.

If I was in the UK I could simply go along to the next surgery of my constituency's MP and the matter I am struggling with would be resolved over a cup of tea in a few minutes.

You fortunate souls who live in Britain, who do not know of the Kafkaesque beaurocratic monster,  who think Franz Kafka's books The Castle and The Trial are works of mere fiction, have no idea how lucky you are. You should get down on your knees and thank God for your form of democracy and hang on to it with nail and claw.

Now raise a glass to Monty Python and have a good day!





9 comments:

  1. Your post should be compulsory reading for all the moaners out there Gwil.

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    1. Thank you Pat. Very wise of you. To quote the words of the song: you don't know what you've got till its gone.

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  2. Although we have it, and should be grateful for it, I would not go so far as to say we are a nation of happy citizens.

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    1. I noticed when I was over just before the Brexit vote there were a lot of grim faces and angry people, such as I had never seen before. It upset me as you can imagine. It seems not to have settled back to a semblance of normality yet from what you say.

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    2. Oh I don't know about that. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular. There is just a general way of thinking in society all over these days that if you don't get what you want you throw your toys out of the pram and sulk and blame.

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    3. Tantrums. Time to grow up, then. At least we have some toys and a pram. But I wonder for how long. Maybe we'll be the last bastion. It seems to be our role if history is anything to go by.

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