@Setanta,
Security is when you are happy with the basic and simple things in life. Like plenty of grub, a good pub, a warm bed, some nut cases to take the piss out of, a decent library, either up stairs or just round the corner, digital TV and the odd spliff and the usual offices. Oh--I nearly forgot--free health care on the end of the phone. With helicopter winches if necessary.
Anything else and your pleasure knows no limit, your voice is like a meadow lark, your heart is like an ocean, mysterious and dark. Which is insecurity no matter how much money you have.
And if those who think otherwise would knock off wasting their time there would be no need for anybody to live in a cardboard shack anywhere. That's in Schopenhauer. Having a ******* boat--say. Complete waste of time. Think of the chemical toilet. Just for a moment. Never mind having to clean seafood out of the bowthrusters. (a real big-dickery giveaway if ever I saw one.) Vrooomvroom!! Mind your knuckles--this salt spray fair stings when you've skinned your knuckle skin off to near the bone. Are there no sea food repellents? It's a shame all those thousands of sea creatures, which look so stunning on the giant plasma screen with some Mozart on the sound when they are ******* about like they do, underwater, harming no one - blue colour tone--calming--- should have to get mangled in some silly sod's bowthrusters just because he's bored at home lying on the couch watching a Test Match, reading -say, Consuming Passions by Ms Philippa Pullar, having a maid bringing tea and biscuits about every hour, like Ms Mullen (RIP) played doing in the country doctor series Dr Finlay's Casebook to such good effect, strolling down to the pub reasonably exhausted and having the crack with the lads about how the government is going to stem the blood which is slow to clot pouring from our capitalist arteries, and the Captain thinks that's boring.
What do animal rights activists think about that? Or do they only do the little furry creatures which have a way of looking at the camera which melts everyone's stony heart. Lambs for example. Welsh for preference. It's the grass on the lower slopes in the valleys which gives Welsh roast lamb that bit of something else which other roast lamb can't reach. With a properly made mint sauce it is nothing short of exquisite. Ms Mullen would have been able to make the right mint sauce if the scriptwriters had told her to do. Andrew Cruickshank mimed "exquisite" for the cameras. What can't speak can't lie is what my old Dad was always saying. He didn't know Goethe had said the same thing many years previously. Which means what can speak lies. Like Omar said.
I think recessions are evolution's way of calming us down when we start looping the loop.
