Monday 7th May

One always thinks of oneself as somehow more important than most others, or at least more valid.  Of course one is not Nelson Mandela or Obama, or will even achieve the minor fame of a bestseller author or a well-known face on the television, but in my case at least I have written my book, which will live on after I have gone, at least for a while until the paper deteriorates and it becomes just one more boring artifact from the past.  But here again I am afraid we deceive ourselves, in the grand scheme of things who remembers Alexander the Great, or Charlemagne, or even Bismark and Palmerston; just names in history books I am afraid.  And even my own memories of Harold Wilson or Margaret Thatcher will mean nothing to future generations, they too will simply be names in some History syllabus for those interested in such mundane matters.  And if these famous people count for nothing then what of ordinary folk such as I, or even the no-hopers, the couch potatoes, the losers in life, or those who die in childhood, the starving millions in Africa – what of their lives, were they too for nothing?

Well no, here I beg to offer a different synopsis.  This says that every human life adds to the sum total of humanity, we are all of equal importance.  And I would go further and say that without each and every one of us humanity would be diminished.  Even the Stalins and Chairman Maos, even the Fred Wests and child rapists and the ugly and obnoxious – they all add to humanity.  And that is why it is important for each and every one of us to do the best we can and do as little harm as possible, so that the sum total of humanity is improved by our presence and not impoverished by it.