I can still remember the exact weight of my toy gun, the way it fitted snugly into the palm of my hand. Actually, I can remember everything about it. The way the hammer pulled back and snapped to. The way you pulled out the pin to release the quick loader and then span it and snapped it shut. It was so light, just a few pieces of black plastic held together with glue and a couple of screws. It was nothing like the real guns I've held. Those were solid and heavy and murderous. In my mind, it was stored in the same compartment of pleasure as all my favourite sweets, synonymous with chocolate and coloured foil and cola bottles. When I held it, I was the Green Berets and Blackbeard and Murdoch from The A-Team all rolled into one. I would sit and wait in the fir tree for hours, keeping watch over the garden, protecting my parents from the nameless yet awful peril lurking just over the horizon. The funny thing is, I don't think there was any fantasy of violence associated with the gun. I didn't want to hurt anyone with it. I just wanted to be a goodie till bedtime.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015 at 07:14PM “The best thing for being sad,” replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, “is to learn something. That’s the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you. Look what a lot of things there are to learn.
