Gangways

I am surprised that we have not heard much about Anthony Burgess' book "The Clockwork Orange".  It is now forty years ago that he wrote it, telling of a future when gangs of drugged teenagers roamed the streets indulging in GBH, rape and murder. Stanley Kubrik  made it into a film and then had it withdrawn because he thought it might influence idle youths.  The book itself is brilliantly written in a sort of private language that the central character has invented.  But it was repulsive and I am not sure that I ever finished it.
However we have made a society in which it is impossible not to have gangs of young men in the streets which are much pleasanter than their overpopulated homes - homes that are made horrid because the politicians pay people to have children. And the more they reproduce the more money they get. So it is much more fun for testerone-charged teenagers to be outside with compatible friends, frightening pedestrians and taunting the police force which we are now beginning to believe is corrupt as well as no good at controlling riots.  Further thoughts will follow.

Mentioned in Despatches:
I am greatly pleased to see that the little town of Garyan - forty miles south of Tripoli - is still holding out against the rebels who are trying to kill that nice Colonel Gaddafi.  There it was that I once mixed drinks  as barman in the officers' mess. (The drinks were served by Sudanese waiters.) I was excused boots and parades and lived rather well.  Surely it was one of the cushiest skives in the Middle East Command.