Cause célèbre

Bloganuary Day 16: halfway there, and living on a prayer

What is a cause you’re passionate about and why?

An honest question that deserves an honest answer – even if it’s one that doesn’t provide much material from which to build a blog post.

I support lots of causes; I have my own political sympathies but this has never been a political blog and I’m not going to change that now.

Even when it comes to causes I have sympathy for, however, I’d be lying if I said there were any that I feel particularly passionate about. I can’t imagine going on a march, for example, never mind gluing myself to a motorway for the sake of a couple of rolls of loft insulation.

I have only ever been on one ‘demo’ in my life. That was at university when, aged 19, I was cajoled by peer group pressure to stand outside the local Army Recruitment Office on the day after the Bloody Sunday massacre (and that’s what it was), almost exactly fifty years ago. It’s fair to say that my presence didn’t tip the scales. The state did not totter.

The nearest that my blood comes to boiling about something is the continuing aftermath of the Hillsborough disaster in 1989, when 96 (now 97) Liverpool supporters were ‘unlawfully killed’ (crushed to death) at an FA Cup semi-final on a ground I myself had been at twelve months earlier, at another semi-final. Best not to get me started on that.

I freely admit that the ‘me being there won’t make any difference’ argument is a rather craven one. For evil to prevail, it is only necessary that good men do nothing, as the saying goes. The fact is, though, that when it comes to causes, however strongly I may feel about them, I am more passive than passionate.

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