A Tale of a Snake in the Grass

OK - before I begin with any further blogging, I must excitedly point out that Davina Le Fangue has FINALLY updated her blog, Fantasies of a Closet Dominatrix. I had begun to wonder if she had dropped off the planet, but no, she is still alive and well.

My dad always said that you could tell someone's character in how they treat animals. If they are cruel to an animal, they will no doubt be cruel to a person. Be especially wary, he said, of people who do not like animals at all, and those who would actively seek to harm them.

His advice was very accurate. I know this because I ignored it once and went out with someone who had indeed been mean to an animal - a cat - and that same person turned out to be a serioiusly twisted individual. Since then, I have been aware of this particular piece of advice.

The other day, a man was telling me how he had been surprised by a snake in the grass on his walk through a churchyard and was contemplating going back to the churchyard to look for the snake. To kill it.

It wasn't a poisonous snake. It hadn't threatened his life. All it did was offend him by slithering past him on his walk. He was going to kill it simply because of what it was: a snake.

Now, I am no fan of snakes, but I did feel for the animal. It hadn't done anything to warrant this response at all.

The episode led me to think about how some people are treated in this world. How being a certain kind of person provokes a violent reaction in another kind of person. I got to thinking about the men who are murdered because they are gay and the women who are beaten and raped because they are lesbian. I thought about my own country of origin and how black people were murdered and oppressed by the white people. I thought about how people are murdered or hurt because they hold a different religion or lifestyle from others.

I realise that the snake man wanted to kill the snake because he feared it. He feared the snake's potential to harm - regardless of the fact that it was a harmless snake simply making its way across the churchyard on its way somewhere, minding its own business. The same line of reasoning can be applied to people who are seen as "different". They are feared because of whatever misconception of their potential. Best to kill them now before they have a chance of revealing that potential, eh?

The sad thing is that this attitude of intolerance is adopted by a great number of people. Don't like the black man? Kill him. Don't like those gays - let's torture them. Those dykes are only after corrupting our women, so all they need is a good fuck from a real man and they'll learn their lesson. Afraid of the power of the Pagan? Of course! We'll burn them! That'll teach them all.

It's no small wonder that the world is in the state it's in. The identifiable problem is this: a lack of respect. A lack of respect for ourselves as individuals, for others, the earth, for life.

When I respect others, I respect their beliefs and lifestyles. Case in point: I know a woman who believes she has been abducted by aliens. I don't know if she has or not, but the experience has been real for her. I respect her views, I respect her individuality. It doesn't alter my perception of her. I certainly won't be trying to kill her for it.

Respect, without a doubt, can go a long way to establishing peace. I start with myself - making peace with me. If I know respect for myself, I know my boundaries. Knowing this, I can respect others and their boundaries.

And I am glad the snake got away unharmed, but it did make me realise what kind of person this man is and that he too wants to kill what he fears. It doesn't make me want to kill him, but it makes me understand where he's coming from. I don't judge him for his fear.

I've said it before and I will say it again. We fear what we don't understand. We hate what we fear and we want to destroy what we hate. So what if we try to understand what we fear? What if we tried to exercise compassion? You cannot bring about a peaceful transformation with violence and hatred.