Open Letter...

...to my boys, my partner, my brothers.

Promise me this: if I go dotty, if I cannot live with dignity, if I cannot live independently, please have me put down!

I could not bear to be no more than a living shell, useless even as company let alone as a contributing member of society. Unable to talk or communicate because the meaning of words is lost would offend my degenerating me.

Evaporating personal hygiene, worse than the most recalcitrant toddler, would be an unbearable affront.

I'm not interested in the 'sanctity of life'. I'm more interested in the 'sanctity of a dignified life'. 'Sanctity of life' is for societies with too much money and time on their hands. Money for research to prolong my agony, but not enough respect to let me go. Too much time to nitpick over definitions, or bow to fanatical lobbies representing nutters who don't represent me.

Please keep God out of it. He won't save my dignity when I'm incontinent and a burden to my loved ones. He won't rescue me from the mental torture of a slow degeneration. He won't be there to care for me when my loved ones can't take any more.

Life is for the living, not the living dead. If I become a living dead, I'd rather just be dead. I'd rather be remembered with joy and affection, respect and admiration, than despised for hanging on too long, ruining the lives of those I love.

Take me to Switzerland and have me die with dignity, on my own terms, in my own time - my choice. I don't want someone unknown medical ethics committee deciding whether I should drag out my life against my will. Before I get too far gone, I should be able to make that decision myself. I should not be penalised, criminalised, criticised. Nor should the one who takes me.

Hopefully, by the time this becomes an issue, European governments will have got off the fence and faced up to reality. The reality of having vast numbers of dotty folk demanding ever more by way of resources should do much to concentrate governmental health service minds.

This would be my message to the Powers that Be: Get out of the way, and let me go.

Legalised Manslaughter

I am still a physical wreck, and thus having sufficient 'down time' in bed, have managed to finish Bernard Durand's book 'Il était une joie'.

It tells how Jérémie Durand, aged 17 and his cousin Jocelyn, aged 20 were mown down on Jérémie's scooter by a 35 yr-old drunken piece of shit driving his father's 4x4 on 3 August, 2001. A second drunkard compounded the carnage by finishing off what the first had not quite succeeded in doing, namely dragging the still living Jérémie 175 metres further until the body was so caught up in the car that it had to stop.

Both drivers were over the alcohol limit and were driving way over the speed limit. Futhermore, both cars were insured in the name of the father of each one. Add false insurance declarations to their list of délits.

You may think that such a serious road 'accident' would be treated with the utmost urgency and professionalism by the powers that be, starting with the gendarmes and finishing with the magistrates. Well, you'd be wrong. It wasn't until 14 September, 2004 that the procès was finally heard by the courts.

For the first of those three years absolutely nothing was done by the first judge. Nothing. Judges are accountable to no one so they have the power to act, or not act, with impunity. The second judge got things moving, but was sent to another post before he could finish the case. The third judge eventually managed to fit the case into her busy schedule.

Along the way, the expert who was supposed to determine the speed of the cars, and the scooter presented two useless, inaccurate reports. A DNA analysis on blood taken from the cars and compared with the bodies came back negative, and it was never officially determined which of the young men was dragged those 175 metres.

A mixture of laxisme, je m'en foutism, not wanting to make waves-ism, incompetance, cover-ups and general ineptitude dogged the case from the start and made a mockery of what one might call justice but which would better be considered the 'judicial system'.

The families, having been driven to extremes of despair, hoped at least for justice on the day of judgement. Only one of the drivers was ever called to appear. The second one, who was speeding, driving under the influence of alcohol and made a false declaration to his insurance company, was not sued because the delay in getting round to him was too long. Legalised manslaughter.

The driver who had the bad luck to actually be made to appear before the judge needn't have worried. Having heard the case from both sides, including lies from the defendent's lawyer, the judge, who hadn't read the case so didn't catch the lies, went into consultation with the other two judges and came to the conclusion that killing two young men whilst under the influence of alcohol and driving at 140km/h in a 90kmh/h zone merited the mighty sentence of... 24 months prison of which 6 firm, a 1000€ penalty, and a one-year driving licence ban.

Six months in prison is not much, you may think. It isn't, and guess what. He didn't even have to serve that. A little arrangement between him, his lawyer and the judge afterwards sent him on his way home, although he is considered as having served his term...

The 1000€, they had to prise out of him 5 months later by threatening to send in the bailiffs.

If you can spot one ounce of justice in this case, do let me know, because as far as I can see, there is none. It seems that the Droits de l'Homme only go in one direction, and it's not the right one.

Two deaths, two salopards, no justice. Only disgust, dishonour, deception, and two salopards still on the roads.

Road Kill

I am taking antibiotics, and so is Ulysse. He is back after spending 3 days in the vet's clinic having been hit by a car. His jaw was split in two and he had to undergo an emergency operation to wire it back together.

What with X-rays, the operation, care and medicine he's just become a very expensive cat, and hopefully he'll take to looking both ways before he crosses the road.

Mind you, if you read Bernard Durand's book 'Il était une joie', you'll realise that it's not necessarily the pedestrians or scooter riders who should be looking both ways, but those selfish drivers who believe the road belongs to them and them alone. The month Bernard's son was killed, or assassinated as he puts it, there was a total 41 deaths on the road in Hérault. That was August 2001. Next door in the Pyrenees Orientales, there were just 4, yet it's a similar region with lots of tourists at that time of year.

Forty-one grieving families in just one month. That year in France there were 7720 deaths on the road, and this figure finally came down to less than 5000 only in 2005.

France is a country of individualists. They are proud to be so, but this individualism translates into selfish egotism on the road. Since the introduction of radars, driver behaviour has been modified with regard to speed. There are 1200 radars on the roads of France, and last year a total of 8 million points were docked from driving licences. I read today in 'Herault' magazine that the Region charges the State 10,000€ rent on each radar, legally. No wonder they are finely tuned!

Speed is only one factor; alcohol is another, equally lethal. In the UK, police would wait outside pubs and clubs and test everyone getting into a car. I've never seen such a policy here in France. Maybe the police are controlling more, but if they are, they are being very discreet about it. The Government is trying to encourage the Designated Driver system, the "capitaine de soirée" among groups of young people. Considering that they represent over 27% of road deaths, it's about time that the Government addressed this section of the population.

I don't understand why France has been so tardy in tackling road deaths. Personal freedoms are all very well, but when they interfere with the freedoms of others (such as the freedom to live), a sensible approach has to be taken even if it seems to insult most of the population.

Vehicles are dangerous and should be treated with precaution, by sober, sedate drivers. Boring maybe, but if Jérémie Durand's killer had been sober and sedate, Jérémie would now be 23.