The British newspapers have discovered evidence directly linking the release of the Lockerbie bomber to Oil deals, denied so self-righteously by everybody involved in the deal to let the guy out (I can't be bothered to go and look up his name, and to be frank, why should he get a name when his whole philosophy hinges around the devaluation and debasement of human life?). Jack Straw himself makes the link between considerations about the murdering swine's release and the need to keep the Libyan "Government" (that is, Mob) happy so they'll let us have their oil in letters written a hound's age ago and printed in today's papers.
Mr Straw has released a statement taking umbrage at the publicity he's getting, as you'd expect. As if printing the letters were an act of troublemaking perversity by the paper that got them, like taking pictures of Joanna Lumley on the beach without her bra on through a telephoto lens (I don't know which paper it was, I heard the story on the radio while I was sweeping the floor at the Bard Gaffe this morning). But a more fitting response would have been to beg the forgiveness of whatever God he has a nominal regard for, in my humble opinion, because that linkage of Lockerbie and Oil is profoundly grubby, confirming as if we needed it that where money infiltrates Spirit gets fucked in the jacksey.
You will tell me such deals are struck all the time. It's why Tony Blair lied about WMDs and a million innocents were killed in Iraq after all. But that doesn't make it any more palatable, or any more acceptable. And here we have proof: incontrovertible, unconcealable evidence. They let this bloke out because they wanted to continue to do big money deals with the gang of brutal, repressive thugs who call themselves the Government of Libya; and then they had the staggeringly bad taste to pretend that it was about nothing other than big-hearted Scots wanting a sick man to go home to his family before he died.
Perhaps the international fixers and wheeler-dealers who make these deals are simply realists and we all owe our comparative Western comfort to them. Perhaps conscience is another form of sentiment, like nostalgia for one's hometown or a love of fluffy dogs.Perhaps. Personally I don't know how a man can look himself in the mirror in the morning when human life becomes just another detail to be slotted in to the bigger picture somewhere.