Friday, 9 June 2017

Digory Polyp

As something of a lounge lizard—atleast in the eyes of my friends (many of whom are no strangers to the wearing of monocles)—I’m the sort of chap who’s occasionally given to the speaking of his mind from the comfort of his own abode. With or without the lubrication of an after-dinner snifter, a cut glass in my hand, I stand in my dressing gown and give the television a sound dressing down. If I’m sufficiently incensed, for example with a news item just broadcast, I’ll recline in my favourite armchair or adopt a seat of pine to opine, addressing the TV set secure in the knowledge that it cannot answer back. A sense of self-satisfaction instils a warm glow in my chest with the certainty that I will always have the last word. Of course we can all sound off in the privacy of our own homes (or in the shade of our gardens, if we wanted to be like critical gnomes) but without an audience, where is the potential for doing something positive in the world?  This is why I have decided to share here, in the modest hope that my words might serve as a form of, hopefully inspiring, outreach.

  I have explained that I sometimes stand to rant, other times I sit; I am spoilt for choice for chairs living (as I do) in an extremely well-furnished, large house with numerous rooms, chandeliers, oil paintings and gold-framed wall mirrors, but—I digress. I was going to say I am in no way limited to chairs from where I express my feelings and cares. No, in fact, I have a mahogany coloured sofa of which I am extremely fond and enjoy sitting there while speaking aloud on my own. The sofa belonged to a distant aunt of mine who died falling off a camel in Egypt. There is a picture of her in an oval shaped silver frame on a mantelpiece somewhere and I never pass it without gratefully associating her with the sofa of which I am so fond. I’ve lost count of the number of satisfying rants I’ve aimed at the television from auntie’s aesthetically pleasing (and extremely comfortable structure, ideally suited for repose). Suffice to say, on numerous occasions I have relaxed on said item of furniture and felt uniquely supported—more, I have felt regal almost, as if the sofa empowers me much the way a king feels sat on his throne.  I’m sure by now I’ve successfully conveyed my attachment to my sofa and furthermore, I hope, added convincing reasons to validate the attachment. In any case, until next time.