Birds On A Wire
Fence-sitting can be contagious, not just some of the time by some of the population but most of
the time by most of the population. Fence-sitting is safe (or so they say, I beg to differ) which is
precisely why so many among us do it! The trouble with trying to point that out to people is firstly they don’t want to hear it and secondly they feel it’s none of your business anyway. Fence-sitting for them is personal!
From time to time I like to open up a can of worms (because I like fishing) and in the case of
fence-sitters I’ve made some interesting observations, one in particular. They’re never at the fore-front of a war. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t condone war. War is a fact of our world as we know it today, they break out across the globe with regular alacrity, at the behest of wiser heads than our own, on our behalf.
Unlike the colourful jack-in-the-box though we can’t shove it back in its box once we’ve sprung the lid. Some world leaders do think they can! Pure vanity if you ask me! History will discern for us
their judgment or lack thereof.
History shows us too that war can take on a life of its own and backing away from that initial
decision to go to war can have the effect of a world leader losing face (no matter what their national persuasion).
War then becomes an absurd clash of egos with neither party willing to concede ground at any cost without the risk that they’ll lose face. Now that’s really absurd right? Negotiation seems like a euphemism for getting the upper hand.
I oppose war and I’ve opposed some types of war (like apartheid) passionately because my friends
who are black, white or coloured were/are affected by it back then and to a lesser degree now. Knowing people suffering in the circumstances takes one from being a fence-sitter to a bird on a wire. In the end the cry is still the same. Together we cry freedom.
Bird on a Wire – lyrics by Leonard Cohen
“Like a bird on a wire
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free.
Like a worm on a hook,
Like a knight from some old fashioned book
I have saved all my ribbons for thee.
If I, if I have been unkind,
I hope that you can just let it go by.
If I, if I have been untrue
I hope you know it was never to you.
Like a baby, stillborn,
Like a beast with his horn
I have torn everyone who reached out for me.
But I swear by this song
And by all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee.
I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch,
He said to me, you must not ask for so much.
And a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door,
She cried to me, hey, why not ask for more?
Oh like a bird on the wire,
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free”.
