Thursday 19 October 2017

Racial hatred

I witnessed something very unsavoury and unpleasant in Crouch End today, as Julian and I returned to his studio from lunch. We were walking along the pavement towards Cecile Park when we became aware of a smallish car tearing up the hill from behind us. It screeched around the corner without indicating and almost ploughed into a man who had stepped off the pavement to cross the road. The car slowed down and the passenger shouted out of his window, "get out the road, you black bastard." Julian and I were profoundly shocked. Although I'm sure this is a tragically familiar occurrence for people of colour, it's not something I have witnessed very often. In fact the last time I saw anything comparable, I was so incensed that I rugby tackled the bastard who'd spat at an Asian family to the floor in the ticket hall of Tottenham Court Road station.

It is official. There has been a thirty percent rise in hate crime since Brexit, and today I saw it with my own eyes. I heard June Sarpong speaking with great erudition on the subject on Radio 4 yesterday and she pointed out very sagely that successive governments had managed to get us to a point where people knew they weren't allowed to say those sort of things, but that hearts and minds haven't yet been changed, which was why a torrent of ugly hatred washed over the country like a tidal wave after Brexit.

Of course the car was moving so speedily that we couldn't get its number plate in time, but I'm semi-proud to say that, although we were powerless to report the crime, the four people who'd witnessed the event immediately rushed over to the guy who'd been abused and poured as much love as we could onto him. I hope it helped a little.

Troubling times...

Am I the only one who gets a bit irritated at the Facebook trend where people seem to be displaying all sorts of profound inanities in giant letters on brightly coloured backgrounds? Surely you'd only decide to do this if you felt you had something really important to say? We are genetically programmed to notice things which are displayed in this manner and if we're going to teach our subconsciouses that words in big letters on brightly-coloured backgrounds aren't important, then how will we ever stop at a stop sign or know that hazardous chemicals are lurking within the boxes we open at work?


How about we save this treatment for statements we genuinely think are important, or really REALLY funny? Otherwise, maybe stick to the normal-sized fonts?

Love Oscar The Grouch.

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