The last missing village idiot happens to be our illustrious double barrel named Member of Parliament (MP) who is voted for by the residents of the area we have lived in for over 25 years. In addition to theoretically help draft legislation in return for a handsome salary and generous allowances, MPs are supposed to look after the interests of their constituents who send them to Westminster in the first place.
Since he took his seat in Parliament, we never troubled the gentleman in question with any requirements or appeals for help. In sheer frustration, my wife sought his advice and possible help in the matter of our appeal for a visa for my elderly mother. She dropped him a short email on his official email account outlining the matter in question and waited for a reply.
Surprisingly, she received a personal call from him whereby he asked how he could be of assistance. So far, so good.
My wife explained the circumstance of the wedding, my mother’s age and status within the family and the failed visa application for my mother to come to England and attend the wedding of our daughter. She then asked him if he could help. His reply was a fine example of village idiocy that befits a man of his position. He said:
“I am sorry I cannot help you and your mother-in-law. I can only intervene if the law had been broken, in this case, no law was broken and therefore, it is out of my hands.”
Mr. Member of Parliament let me explain a simple fact to you. When a law is broken, we call the POLICE; they are a fine body of public servants who are specifically trained to deal with such matters. I do not recall anyone ever calling their MP because they had been burgled or because someone illegally parked their car in front of the hospital emergency entrance! We call you because we have come across red tape we think you might be able to cut through and resolve a humanitarian matter.
The general election is due next year and I sincerely hope we meet in the high street where you will ask for my support. I am going to delight in giving you an answer you will never forget for the rest of your miserable life.
The wedding had passed now and most of our guests were able to make it but not without suffering the indignity of having to submit so much personal information as part of the application, as well as the anxiety of having to wait for weeks to hear whether or not they have been blessed with a visa to visit the UK and spend hard currency in my adopted country.
Speaking of my adopted country, I have lived in the UK for over 40 years now, I proudly held a British Passport for over 30 years, my wife and children were born and raised in England, I love the country where I lived for far longer than my country of birth. Given a choice, I would live there in preference to anywhere else in the World. However, these last few weeks have made me feel somewhat ashamed of how our embassies instead of projecting a positive and welcoming image to the outside world, treat foreigners, who wish to come and visit for innocent and legitimate reasons, with contempt.
Come on our government, do something about this ridiculous visa system and at the very least employ people with common sense and humanity about them instead of the superior attitude of treating all outsiders as potential criminals, freeloaders and illegal job seekers.
At the very least, send the villages idiots back to their villages; they miss them.
End of sermon. Amen!
