Stand on Zanzibar: Feeding on the Elderly
May. 23rd, 2010 12:16 pm
The decision to schedule it for clearance and development
Was taken at a meeting with all the due formality
By the people's democratically elected representatives
None of whom had been inside -- only to the doorstep
Briefly during a canvassing for the last election
Which was when they smelt the smell and knew they didn't like it.
A junior executive from the Health Department
Said it was unthinkable that children and old people
Should nowadays exist in such Victorian squalor
He named fires with open flames, he named splintered wooden floorboards,
Windows with single panes, toilets without airtight lids.
Committee members shuddered and agreed on the removal.
Notices were sent to sixty-seven heads of families --
The list compiled from records of electoral returns.
A date was fixed for transfer to brand-new accommodation.
Objections could be entered as the law demanded.
If the number of objections exceeded thirty-three percent
The Ministry of Housing would arrange a public hearing.
Not included in the data was a woman called Grace Rowley.
In accordance with instructions the electoral computer
Having failed to register her form for three successive years
Marked her as non-resident, presumed removed or dead.
However, to be certain, it did address her notice.
No answer was recorded before the scheduled date.
It happened to be the morning of her seventy-seventh birthday.
She awoke to noises that she had never heard in her life.
There were crashes and landslide sounds and engines roaring.
When she got up, frightened, and put on her greasy coat
Over the unwashed underclothes she always slept in,
She found two strange men going through her other room.
The passing years had filled it with the mementoes of a life-time:
Shes that had been fashionable when she was a pretty girl,
A gift from a man she had often wished she'd married,
The first edition of a book that later sold a million,
A cracked guitar to which she had once sung lovesongs,
A Piaf record bought during Piaf's heyday.
A voice said, "Christ, Charlie, this is worth a fortune."
Wrapping an ornament, a newspaper informed him
Of the triumphant success of the first manned Moon-landing.
A voice said, "Christ, Charlie, did you ever see such junk?"
Names were strewn broadcast: Dylan, Brassens, Aldous Huxley,
Rauschenberg, Beethoven, Forster, Mailer, Palestrina...
Like silt deposited b the river of time in oozy layers
The sludgy heritage of passing fashion-generations
Testified to the contact of Miss Rowley with her world.
And somehow the strain... old age... the contact broke, anyway.
Looking up and suddenly discovering her staring at them,
The men, who were both young, thought, "Oh my God. Oh my God."
With the authority of the committee, democratically elected,
They took away Grace Rowley and they put her in a Home.
By authority of the committee, democratically elected,
They auctioned her belongings apart from her clothing
And prosperous antique dealers purchased some of it
And sold at huge profit to collectors and even museums.
When the question next came up of excessive public outlay
On the maintenance in council accommodation of senior citizens,
It was explained that Miss Rowley's belongings when sold
Had more than defrayed the cost of accommodating her
Because she had lived for only another month, and moreover
A medical school had saved them the price of a funeral.
Now, some of you may remember the frightening case of an old gay couple who were not in one of the states where same-gender couples are allowed to marry, but who nonetheless had contracts signed which named each other as executors, and they legally co-owned many things. This did not stop the committee, democratically elected, from committing one to a hospital, seizing goods to pay for the care, committing the other to a Home, etc.
And many of you claimed that this was why same-gender marriage was necessary in all states.
But what many of you don't know is that many old married couples also have this happen to them. Civil asset forfeiture to cover the costs of involuntary committal happens.
And Brunner got that one right.
Weep.