Posted by Vale
As the government launches its health and safety ‘myth squad’ we look back to the days when public health documents didn’t mince their words. Prepare for the Ride of Death:
This manual for bike riders identified the risk these innocent youngsters faced as they rode their bicycles with ghoulish relish:
You can read the whole manual here.
Posted by Vale
It happens so often: you sit with someone for hours or, sometimes, days yet the person you have accompanied with so much love and care chooses to die the moment you leave the room. This is Dianne Fahey’s poem about the experience.
(i)
We, your children, were there
In other rooms
And my mother beside you;
Yet you died
Without witnesses…
Was that how you wished it,
Death’s ultimate privacy?
So clear and frail you lay
Jaw set in closure,
the drama consummated.
I was the one who’d known
inside my bones
how far from death,
and when you would go.
But, guiltily tired,
I kept no vigil,
Was called from dreams
by my brother. All of us
Kept watch for a while
slept again.
(ii)
Long ago.
You’d let me sleep,
An exhausted eight year old,
rather than take myself to mass.
Unversed in mortal sin,
you’d calmed my sorrow
saying, ‘God will understand’ –
unwaveringly as if you knew.
Once only did you use that word,
eschewing fixities
Though prey to restless doubt.
Later you’d ask
did I ever wonder
what it was all about,
your mind working at
puzzles, painful memories.
You anchored yourself
in what you had learnt,
the knowledge of what you must do.
Out of innocence,
a quietly difficult life,
you shaped a wisdom
And inherit the reward of seeking:
the gift of a good death
You can find more of Diane Fahey’s poetry here.
Posted by Vale
A favourite – even hackneyed – funeral song. The words really work though – and it’s the only possible accompaniment to this short video of some of the tributes at Graham Chapman’s memorial service. Was this – as John Cleese claims – really the first f*** at a memorial service?
Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse
When you’re chewing on life’s gristle
Don’t grumble, give a whistle
And this’ll help things turn out for the best
And…
Always look on the bright side of life (whistle)
Always look on the light side of life (whistle)
If life seems jolly rotten
There’s something you’ve forgotten
And that’s to laugh and smile and dance and sing
When you’re feeling in the dumps
Don’t be silly chumps
Just purse your lips and whistle – that’s the thing
And…
Always look on the bright side of life… (whistle)
Come on!
Always look on the bright side of life… (whistle)
For life is quite absurd
And death’s the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow
Forget about your sin – give the audience a grin
Enjoy it – it’s your last chance anyhow
So always look on the bright side of death (whistle)
Just before you draw your terminal breath (whistle)
Life’s a piece of shit
When you look at it
Life’s a laugh and death’s a joke, it’s true
You’ll see it’s all a show
Keep ’em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you
And always look on the bright side of life
Always look on the right side of life (whistle)
Always look on the bright side of life (whistle)
Always look on the bright side of life (whistle)