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The sport of deploring other people.

We walk out together and Darwin like we observe the plumage and gait of others as we suffocatingly categorise. 'Passing strang'e we bardicise  that such poeple exist. Our prying eyes are a reductive narrative unshakably intact with cement like assumptions, Inaisde are we monsters of corrosive judgement. Unapologetic agents, shrewed judgues of other people's failings. Full of hight art insigihts and hesitations, I don't think of my own failings, failings that are fundamental to mankind, we walk along as if appearing to gaze at a point far off in the distance but assidiously monitoring the minutaie of our fewllow citizens. Are we lifelong prisoners on isalnds of our making? There is a need to have something more than other people, becuase one feels that one does not deseerve to be loved by other people.

It can be fun making fun of the frailities of others. And there are frailities in abundance especially where I live, about an hour out from London. Walk along the High Stree and fat is not just an issue
it is a test of your Fred Astraire ability to manoeuvre yourself past them. Will stuffing your 'boat race' = face, eventually be the death knell for the UK's National Health Service?

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