I’m feeling remarkably happy today – and not only because it’s Friday (seventeen working days till I’m outta there!). This morning, I was late getting up, and so reached the station thirty seconds after my train was scheduled to leave. However, in what can only be regarded as a miraculous occurrence (my application for canonization has already gone off to the Vatican), said train had been delayed, and it rolled in four minutes later. Even the usual cattle-truck overcrowding, my face stuck in the armpit of some sweaty businessman, couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, for of such small things are tranquility and nirvana made.

I think it’s true to say that the daily commuting grind is something I will not miss in the slightest once I leave London for pastures Arizonan. Of course, it will probably be replaced by a different daily grind, as I drive to work instead — that in itself promises to be an experience, not having been behind a wheel in five years or so. I’m already nervous about having to take another driving test to get an American licence (or even “license”) — a Brit in his 30’s alongside all those 90210-styled teens. At least on American roads, you have a great deal more room to manoeuvre (or even, “maneuver”).

And, from what I’ve seen, American drivers are a good deal more polite, cheerfully waving away behaviour which would provoke a severe attack of road-rage – perhaps just a severe attack – if you tried them going round the Elephant & Castle. Perhaps it’s indeed true that an armed society is a polite society, and that you are less inclined to be rude if you can’t tell whether the other guy is packing. But it seems that driving, in itself, it less stressful than in London; or at least, it’s a different kind of stress, one born of fatigue and the fact that popping down to the corner shop for a pint of milk now requires a 30-minute drive. Each way.

This is still, however, preferable to London. I had been working on Litany of Hate 2 a sequel to (unsurprisingly) Litany of Hate, a list of things which piss me off. But I realised how many of these were linked to transport, even as a pedestrian who only has to dodge the shrapnel of car-related stress, as drivers explode in plumes of fury. Particular peeves include motorists who think that blowing their horns at pedestrians is the same thing as giving them the right of way. Or, as mentioned last time, there’s those who accelerate across the pedestrian crossing as they see you step onto it — inevitably getting a whole ten yards further up the road before the traffic brings them to a halt anyway. You may recall that I perfected the technique of clipping their rear wing hard with my briefcase as they whizz past, which creates a most satisfying sound. It scares the life out of them and is far less risky and more satisfying than shouting obscenities. Well, I have since discovered the additional tactic of then walking on as if nothing has happened, which really confuses them…

Then there’s cyclists… Oh, yes… No group of road-users probably whines more about how badly they’re treated – but no group of road-users has less respect for the rules of the road. One-way streets, stop lights, pavements — these are all things that apply to other people, as they swerve their way through the traffic like frantically-pedalling lemmings. For the death-toll among cyclists is perilously high — and I can see why. Once, when bus, tube and train all went on strike simultaneously, I cycled to work; even though the traffic was stationary, it wasn’t an experience I want to repeat. But until cyclists learn to behave like sensible road-users, why should they be treated like sensible road-users? Best just regard the annual death-toll as a cull of the most stupid and/or unlucky.

How can you tell the Japanese tourists on a whale-watching boat?
They’re the ones carrying the knives and forks aboard…

Having had my interest piqued by the latest batch of TC weird news, I was at the Japanese Whaling Society site the other day, a fascinating place which mounts a stoic defence of their right to harpoon any tasty-looking morsel of mammalian blubber within reach. Its suggestion is that whales are not that intelligent – the ratio of brain to weight is way below a dolphin’s – and that they’re more like ocean-dwelling cows than sentient beings. This is refreshingly robust, certainly a cut above the usual apologist nonsense over whaling for “scientific” reasons. Such are the joys of the Net: the ability to get points of view that are normally suppressed – sometimes for the best of reasons, but no truly democratic society can pick and choose who gets freedom of speech, and who doesn’t, based on whether you agree with their opinions.

I doubt that such views will be tolerated by those who manage “ethical investments”. These are funds who don’t invest your money in dubious companies that pollute the environment, say, or torture small furry animals. It’s one of those nice, woolly ideals – hell, even the name hijacks the moral high ground with the implication that other investments are somehow evil and immoral. It is interesting to speculate briefly as to whether proudly unethical investment funds do exist, advertising the fact that they don’t give a damn about morality, but they’ll do lots more with your money?

For the concept appeals only to the already-rich who can afford to take the hit. Ethical investments will, overall, do less well than normal ones, since if you make your choice based on factors other than pure financial performance, this is inevitable. It also seems to deny the inter-related nature of the modern economy, where no-one is innocent. Sure, there are degrees of guilt, but this is strangely bypassed: they aren’t called “slightly less unethical than average investments”.

In its simplest form, this is a boycott, which is the thin end of the wedge when it comes to campaigning tactics. For example: GM foods. It wasn’t enough for those who didn’t want to eat them, to buy from places that didn’t use genetically-modified ingredients, or simply read the freakin’ packet. Instead, there was a campaign of embarrassment, near-intimidation and vandalism aimed at forcing stores and farmers to cave in. Clearly, the arguments had failed to convince people, but as is all too often the case, who needs facts or evidence when you’ve got a good publicity campaign?

This intolerance for the views of others is characteristic of many a liberal cause: they’re right, you’re wrong, and you have to change to suit them. When was the last time you went to a vegetarian restaurant and saw a “Carnivores Option” on the menu? It’s the way that a small group will often attempt to enforce their own beliefs on others which irritates me. “I don’t want to wear fur, so all fur shops should be closed.” I don’t inflict my morality on others – much as the idea of skinning a few PETA activists does appeal – and I would appreciate it if others would give me the same respect.

So, if you don’t want to eat whale-meat, that’s fine. But if you can’t convince the Japanese not to do so, respect their views and let them get on with their lives.