Demeaning

With no shortage of rant-worthy issues soaking up The Beak's creative juices of late, it has taken over a week to put finger to keyboard regarding a recent feather-ruffling matter.

The case in question is a brief letter in the Your Questions Answered section (aka the civil servant letters page) of the December 4th Penguin News, asking if it was true that the staff carrying out the business end of the demining operation had never done such work before. It took a couple of minutes for the implications of this question to sink in: Complete novices. Handling 28 year old explosive devices. Could someone really think this was going on? They may as well have asked "Is it true that Bactec will be using the Irish demining technique (hands on ears, one foot stamping)?"

I don't want to make this about the R word, as I am certain (hopeful, at any rate) it isn't, but I can't help but think that such insulting and moronic questions would not be asked if it was an all-British cast doing the prodding and digging. Indeed, if there were any letters they would probably be lauding the de-miners' courage in the face of possible swift and emphatic dismemberment.

As an anonymous blog, The Beak is a prime example of lily-livered yellaness, and there is not enough money in the world to get me to crawl around on minefields looking for explosive devices. I have nothing but child-like admiration for these guys, and the fact that a member of the community thought that they were anything but professionals is the equivalent of seeing someone pissing on Superman's cape.

The general feeling around town regarding the demining operation is that it is somewhat needless and it would be put to much better use somewhere where mines are a real danger. Too true. But, regardless of the reasoning behind it, it's happening, and maybe we'd do well to show some gratitude or, at the very least, some respect. Even the curmudgeonliest cynic would be hard-pressed to find reasons as to why it isn't good for the Islands (Nº 1, it makes Argentina look bad) and if we never walk on those fields ever again, we've lost nothing.

Who knows? It may even prove to be cathartic