An English In Kentucky


















 Friday September 9th 2016Tim Candler9


      I think at one time or another Hugh Crabtree might have been a Bespoke Tailor. Either that or he was the Black Sheep of some wealthy family. Or possibly the bastard child of a Peer of the Realm. He might even have been orphaned as a babe and raised in the pocket of a Kangaroo, who knows. I can say that when it comes to title we people truly are obsessed with origins. Can't go far in the ancient literature without coming across lists of who begat who. Even today, there's a whole thing with antecedence, someone will claim a Founding Father as an ancestor and the oyster is open on the assumption there's a pearl inside it. Then, those of us who are if you like opposite tend toward a different view from a history of examples which suggest that such an oyster is best left closed because it most likely contains a halfwit. Don't get me wrong, to make it pompous Plato's Men of Gold were drawn from the mass and trained from a young age, they weren't born golden, they were bureaucrats.



     In this area I'd argue that much of it has to do with an imperative within the success of social cohesion that males should care for their children. Doesn't say much for us boys of course, nor does it guarantee that males will take care of their children. The concubines of Timur the Lame probably produced thousands of children, yet it was the children of his six wives, especially the boys, who were deemed worthy of title, inheritance and well arranged marriages. For those interested, Timur, or Tamerlane as he was called in the Christian west, in the course his conquests may have been responsible for killing 17 million people, or 5% of the world's estimated total population in the 14th Century. World War Two killed around 3% of the world's people. Any how! The lesson of Crabtree's character, while it could well be struggling at the moment with the effects of endless rounds of Okra on the mental processes, is primarily that his origins are mysterious, they don't fit into a slot. In another way, the man is Free. Ecce libero, to make it as pompous as Hugh himself


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