As we all know, one of my pet hates is when I put a really funny (yes, I do say so myself) post on Facebook and somebody chimes in with a ‘serious response’.
Mainly because the ‘serious response’ indicates that:
- They are taking me seriously.
- I have somehow offended them.
- In order to maintain the unfettered hilarity of my original post, I have to get into some tit-for-tat argy-bargy until I finally get so frustrated that I just delete the post altogether.
So, for those of you who aren’t following me on Facebook (fools, it’s a laugh a minute, fun-fest) my comment on this occasion was in relation to Cecil.
I speedily had a response pointing out that I am, by objecting to the slaughter of an endangered species, clearly (and wilfully) ignoring the people who have died in the Channel Tunnel over the last few days.
My response was to point out that, unlike the Channel Tunnel story, Cecil was not attempting to gain unlawful entry into the UK accompanied by a thousand of his mates at the time of his murder.
See, I’m hilarious!
Anyway, this got me thinking.
It is my opinion that a few factually unsound assumptions are being made here, and I believe that I might be just the Single-Mum to correct them.
Firstly, I do not, and never have, advocated the death of anything, be it animal or human.
Secondly, being sad about Cecil’s death and mentioning it on Facebook does not mean that by leveraging the ‘Bish-Bash-Bosh’ law of logic, you can accuse me of buying a celebratory cake every time an unsuccessful immigrant is injured or killed.
Thirdly, I think that the terrorists are winning if every time I say something hysterical on Facebook I have to include a disclaimer to the effect that:
‘by indicating her emotional response to the recent, unfortunate demise of a lion, Single-Mum in no way accepts liability for nor indicates her support of: Immigration, emigration, war, famine, hurricanes, tornados, earthquakes, floods or fire or indeed any event unrelated to Cecil that has occurred anywhere else on the globe during the last twenty four hours’.
Fourthly, regarding illegal immigration into the UK, and to once and for all establish my position on the subject, I am going to offer the following analogy.
Tonight, in your cosy home, that you no doubt worked many hours to both purchase, furnish and decorate, you will go to bed. You will lock the doors happy in the knowledge that you and yours, for whom you have been working all these years, are tucked up safely in their own beds. You are pleased and fulfilled by the fruits of your labours as well you should be.
Tomorrow morning, you awaken and happily head downstairs to share Cocoa Pops at the table with your beloved family.
But wait, who are these unfamiliar people in your house?
Where did these people, who are currently gnoshing down your Cocoa Pops and Nutella, come from?
Why are they watching Breakfast on your wide screen TV in the sitting room?
Who is that dude playing Mario Kart on the Xbox?
The Cocoa Puffs are all gone, the Nutella is empty and your kids are asking why the Super Mario Kart game they bought with their own pocket money is now unavailable to them.
It turns out that, despite your attempts to safely lock your home last night, in the wee small hours of the morning, fifteen homeless people gnawed their way through the wall and into your three bed terrace in Harlow because, let’s face it, being homeless pretty much sucks.
You are outraged.
You are furious.
Suddenly a bunch of your neighbours turn up with placards and signs shouting that you are clearly unsympathetic to the rights of the homeless, and that by insisting that they leave your home, that you are quite obviously stating that all homeless people should immediately have their throats slit and/or be doused with lighter fuel and set on fire.
Public opinion subsequently sways in favour of the public outcry (let’s face it, it’s not their Cocoa Puffs and kitchen table that are under threat here) and you are forced to share your home with the homeless interlopers on the grounds that, unbeknownst to you, the law now states that saying ‘no’ to people is both mean and totally inhumane if they have previously been in any kind of situation that could be called ‘sucky’.
Statute now dictates that you shall now be heading off to work in the morning to support the needs of your new responsibilities and, as sure as bears do their business in the woods, Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs will ensure that once the immediate homeless problem has been solved for these individuals, their education, health and general all round happiness will now also become your responsibility.
Your new friends also, obviously, have relatives, so very soon, arguing with the council about planning consent for your new extension becomes your predominant activity.
This becomes a tough gig when you are trying to hold down your customer service job at BT from nine to five and pretty soon you are incapable of sustaining the squeeze on your resources.
Now you are all homeless.
Now nobody has any Nutella.
Now, back to reality (well, as near an approximation of reality as I am ever able to offer) this illustration broadly describes how I feel about illegal immigration into the UK.
Illegal immigration I stress. Offering asylum to those in need through the correct political channels is a totally other bowl of fruit, but to be sustainable this needs control and prior thought given to the necessary infrastructure for our new friends.
This is more David Cameron’s ball and tennis court than mine, but I sure do agree that our policies in this area might need another flick through.