10/13 - Voyaging Through

As much as I might enjoy cross-examinging the woman from Monday who began healthier habits that led to weight loss shortly before her boyfriend commented that her body type wasn't his preference, that would take far too long.  I find I am still unsatisfactorily able to get back into full swing.  Apologies in advance.

L1:  Now here's a couple who clearly have at least one point of compatibility - they both have some foresight, but rather a limited quantity.  As they are so well matched in this regard, it seems almost a shame to advise them that Divorce is by far the easiest solution to their problem, although parting is certainly vastly more convenient than either of the parties changing his or her views.  And a divorce ought to mean a brief from LW1 for Mizz Lizz Probert, who did very well in Singleton v Singleton.  If LW1 does not have a proper contempt for H now, she most certainly will by the time Mizz Lizz is finished with her.

I might cross-examine LW1 on why she thinks that her statement of the respective viewpoints of herself (or, in all fairness, himself, as L1 never explicitly specifies) and H1 are something about which they necessarily need to agree to disagree.  How is being a pacifist and despising guns inconsistent with the belief that everyone has the right to keep and bear arms?  Such viewpoints will lead to difficulties in the application of reconciling them in a living situation, but it is perfectly possible to hold both beliefs.  The interesting thing here is that LW1 equates personal attitudes to what (s)he presents as H1's stance coming from his belief in a general or universal right.  Either this is a great incompatibility or LW1 doesn't really fight fair.

As for a solution, I have two - go the route of Solomon and let H1 have all the guns he likes so long as no bullet ever crosses the threshold, or follow the example of And Then There Were None (a much more politically correct version of the title than Ten Little Whatevers), in which Mr Justice Wargrave collects all the potential lethal weapons in the possession of anyone still alive on the island and places them in a silver chest, which is then placed in the plate cupboard.  He then gives the key of the chest to Lombard and the key of the cupboard to Blore (or the other way around).  Either way, this will have the hallmark of all the best compromises in satisfying nobody.

L2:  I suppose it seems reasonable to assume that someone who would carry large sums in cash would be the sort who would be comfortable with resorting to physical violence to settle a dispute.  I might again point out the desirability of a Divorce.  Lest anyone think I am merely touting for briefs on behalf of Mizz Lizz Probert, I point out as an unshakeable defence that LW2 and W2 are both dreamers, and it is well known that dreamers are unsuited to the real world of Actual Bodily Harm.  I could go farther and hold that anyone who gets The Wedding of Her Dreams invariably finds that life goes downhill from there.  But any marriage beginning with such a wedding is bound to have a hex on it.  And C2 need not stay divorced.  I pass without comment over the Prudecutor's strange display of what she takes for humour.

As for the cash, who cares?  It's a kind gesture not to cash IG2's check and send in that direction a donation more or less equal to the amount of CB2's gift to IG2, although that might be a tacit admission of guilt or responsibility, and could possibly end up costing LW2 and W2 more than either might care to undertake.  Being in a more than usually tasteful mood today, I shall refrain from inquiring with any solicitude into the question of whether CB2 is provided with adequate Defence Counsel.

L3:  Now we see the point of the entire column.  A gift of LW3's hair as a wig is something that gives the Prudecutor a mild case of the squicks; therefore, LW3 must channel the thought into some conventional effort that has considerably less meaning.  Typical.  Of course, why LW3 thinks that making such a gift as a surprise is so clever I've no idea.  It's too simple.  LW3 mentions to F3 that she (this letter does seem to have more in favour of the assumption that others, although it is not absolutely explicit) is planning to cut her hair.  F3 probably makes some remark about this, and LW3 asks if F3 would like her hair made into a wig.  The element of surprise could come in the form of LW3 already having looked into the practice.

L4:  I might have sided entirely with LW4 on this one, but the list of complaints is rather odd.  The complaint about there being no smoke alarms might have carried some weight if tied explicitly to the dangers of conflagrations on premises owned by near-hoarders.  But in combination with the unlocked doors (as if there were any need to keep intruders out of such a home), LW4 comes off as being extremely soapy, if not an outright priss.  The real damage has been done.  LW4 ought to have enforced on the occasion of the engagement (or at least the marriage) that P4s treat the new family with appropriate respect.  Consider the case of Susan Warrington in The Voyage Out.  Although a minor character who, along with her eventual fiance, Arthur Venning, is used as a sort of foil for the love story of more central characters, Susan, whose existence is established as that of a drudge in service to her aunt, finds an unexpected improvement in her lot on the occasion of her engagement.  The old tyrant shows such a respect for the married state that Susan's view of her prospects for the near future are considerably brightened.  A slight variation on this theme occurs in Death on the Nile, in which Cornelia Robson is liberated from her lot of being dogsbody to Miss van Schuyler.

Moral:  "Directly she became engaged, Mrs Paley behaved with instinctive respect, positively protested when Susan as usual knelt down to lace her shoes, and appeared really grateful for an hour of Susan's company where she had been sued to exact two or three as her right."