Life can be a bitch, sure. And so can death....

A guy in Marseille killed himself today. His wife, who is said to be a psychiatric patient, was driving her husband to hospital because he was having a psychotic episode when he got out of the car and threw himself under a bus. The driver managed to stop in time to save his life but the man got up and ripped one of his eyes out, and then the other one. Police on the scene tried to control him but he ran away and fell over a fence and impaled himself. Then he died.

I knew a woman once. She tried to kill herself at home with an overdose but was saved by the coincidence of a relative arriving. She tried again a while after and was taken to hospital, where she was given tranquillisers and subsequently left alone. So she got up, went to the empty room next door, and hung herself on the belt of a dressing gown.

They say life's a bitch sometimes. Sure, it is. But whatever the trials and tribulations and bonheurs and torments of my life, I sure wouldn't want to die with such a desperate urge to do so.....

The James McConnell Facebook funeral consolidates my faith in people

James McConnell

James McConnell was a former Royal Marine in the British army who died last month in a nursing home in Portsmouth England at the age of 70. He had no family or friends, so the staff were worried that he would be buried alone, with no mourners to accompany him and say goodbye.

Happily though, things changed after a Facebook page was created to ask people to come to his funeral. Over two hundred people took the trouble to attend as a result of the appeal, and there was also a motorcycle cavalcade, a group of British Legion standard bearers, and buglers From the Royal Marines Band playing the Last Post.

What a beautifully uplifting piece of news that is. 

The world can seem so cold sometimes, and Facebook often reflects that. And people want gore, sex, scandal and murder in their press too, which is why the press provides it.

The large majority of those present had never known James McConnell. It's heartening to know that there are some people out there on the Internet with warm hearts, a generous spirit, and compassion. 

Good news for a change...

'Children, today's homework is to write an essay on your reasons for committing suicide'

That was, in essence, the subject of a homework essay given by a teacher to his class of 14 and 15-year-olds at a school in Montmoreau-Saint-Cybard in the Charente region, and it is causing quite a stir in parental and education circles.

The wording of the subject matter to be addressed by the children in their essays was;

'You have just turned 18. You have decided to end your life. Your decision seems to be irrevocable. You decide at the last minute to explain the reasons behind your act. Whilst writing your self-portrait you describe all the self-disgust you feel. Your text will retrace some of the events in your life which have led you to feel the way you do.'

Unsurprisingly, some parents complained to the school about the subject of the essay, saying that it wasn't suitable for children of that age, and the teacher has been suspended pending the outcome of an internal inquiry into his methods. Most parents held an opposing view however, and they are demanding that the teacher, who they say has a good reputation, be reinstated immediately. They point out that although the homework was given on October 22 no complaints were made until recently, which they say indicates that the great majority of the children were quite happy to do the essay, that they considered it to be a piece of fiction, and that they felt no desire to complain to their parents or the school.

It would be easy, understandable even, to side with those parents who were not happy that their children were given this essay to write but to do so would be an error as it would be tantamount to denying an uncomfortable truth, which is that children naturally consider the question of suicide.

After all, most children of that age or even younger think about the nature of suicide at one time or another, and some of them actually do commit suicide, or try to with varying degrees of intent, a fact which is borne out by evidence which demonstrates that suicide is the second leading cause of death among French children and young adults aged 15 to 25.

And it is only one or two years later that many French children begin their introductory studies of philosophy, a discipline in which the analysis of the nature of life, death and suicide is a fundamental component. One of the philosophers they may study is Camus, a man who offered the following point of view on the very nature of philosophy; "There is but one true serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy." And what of this, by Montaigne, the well known 'father of skepticism' and intellectual who held the opinion that "philosophy is about learning how to die."

If it is acceptable to teach children the writings of these and others who hold similar opinions on death and suicide why is it a bad idea for them to write about the issues they raise? It would be an insult to their intelligence to consider that they are not capable of expressing their own thoughts on these aspects of our existence, and denying their right to express their personal impressions on them would be a grave error. Children commit suicide sometimes and so do many adults, particularly in France, as I wrote here, and the impression of having nobody to share ones problems with is known to be a factor in a high number of cases.

The ongoing inquiry into into the teacher's decision to give this homework topic will include an analysis of the way it was presented to the pupils and that is to be applauded because if there were any obvious pedagogical errors in his manner of presenting his topic the inquiry could draw up more specific guidelines for future use by the teaching profession and so much the better.

But whatever course of action they decide to take, the education system, as well as parents and adults in general cannot simply wish suicide away as if it didn't exist and pretend that it doesn't concern children. It does, and it needs to be written and talked about.

War! What is it good for? Absolutely nuthin'!

That song hits the nail right on the head. I was reminded of that a few weeks ago when I first watched the video below, which includes much of the amateur footage of the last few sordid hours of Mutassim Gaddafi's life after he had been captured by the rebels towards the end of the Libyan War, as well as the aftermath of his execution. I have watched it a couple of times since. The text overlays, which are thankfully not too overly prevalent, make clear that the video was put together by its compiler in an attempt to praise Mutassim and serve as a kind of testimony to him. But all that was completely irrelevant to me and the longer the video went on the more I ignored the words because the powerful juxtaposition of image, music and the offhandedly bestial anger and vengeance of the war-hardened voices and the pitifully oppressing banality of what was happening gave me a completely different impression of what I was seeing which drowned out all ideological, political and other petty earthly considerations.

My impression consisted of a mixed bag of emotions. Intense sadness at the tragic futility of war and the pointless cruelty of it all, helplessness in the knowledge that human beings fight and kill each other and that they always have done and probably always will, and - perhaps most of all - humbled awe at the fact that we are all, even the most powerful among us, nothing but tiny little specks of near-nothingness in the bigger picture who are all destined to die and eventually disappear without trace from the history of the Universe.

This video reminded me that death is The Great Leveler who always wins out in the end, despite all the fleeting and ultimately futile power games that human beings play…