The reason, or so I gather, that Russian wizards and witches tend to withdraw from human affairs and live in the forests, far away from everyone, is that their words and wishes have power. Consequently, the idea goes, if you live in Moscow or St Petersburg, you’re bound to at some point to find yourself angry with someone who jostles you in the street or treads on your feet on the metro, ill-wish him, and then you’ve got the consequences on your conscience. That, and the fact your hut on hens’ legs needs plenty of space for its exercise, of course.
Anyway, I’m beginning to wonder if writing a blog isn’t a bit like that. John Reid opined a little while ago that something or other ‘involves nothing less than together renewing the social contract.’ The Reactionary Snob responded that the social contract
is a hypothetical construct to justify the state’s existence. We don’t actually sign a contract… although, I wouldn’t put it past you lot to try.
and, as if by magic, a few weeks later it transpires that
A new contract between the state and the citizen setting out what individuals must do in return for quality services from hospitals, schools and the police is one of the key proposals emerging from a Downing Street initiated policy review,
a proposal memorably taken apart by Nosemonkey in a post that prompted someone to ask, of Blair,
Can’t someone just buy him a copy of SimCity and let him get on with it?
Now I write something entitled It’s grotesque — ban it, and, as if by magic, up pops the Met’s assistant commissioner, Tariq Ghaffur, asking for (more…)