Essays in Idleness

I admire, or will at least tolerate, the woolly thinking of sheep, or at less, I haven’t objected or proposed to censor it, ever. They do not shout. By contrast, my toleration of human liberals is quite finite. I have limited experience with sheep, however, though more with other New Zealanders, and it is possible that if I belonged to a sheepfold, or even hung out with one, I might formulate a stronger objection. But so long as they are providing wool, meat for mutton curries, and milk for Feta cheese, or indeed Pecorino Romano, I can enjoy brief periods in their company. I am disturbed to read there are homosexualist sheep, and other perverted animals in nature, though I’m not sure I believe it.

“Rainbow Wool” is a human organization, of course, for no sheep can be that stupid, notwithstanding, or perhaps because of, their non-participation in radical wokist, left-wing politics. However, armed with a “study” that shows up to 8 percent of rams show no interest whatever in ewes, a non-profit collaboration between Californian and German environmentalcases has been launched. This will defend assumed poofter sheep from the abattoir, by bidding against them at auctions. The females, even if sapphic, will continue to be raped and butchered, though, despite some progress towards feminism.

I wish to protest, for while I realize that our environmentalcases have diets low in ketones, they do not appreciate the philosophy of the Artidactyls, as I think we call the sheepy order. I assume their silent Platonism was learnt from antique Greek pastoralists, who sang to them about their ideas.

The male bachelors might just be tired of the females’ company. As I say, actually, I might be, if I were compelled to maintain any consecutive discourse with an uneducated ewe. I much prefer flirtatious asides with nanny goats, with one of whom I once had an amorous conversation near Abbottabad in Pakistan.