Eventually I found it disturbing. I wondered what effect
this was having on the mental state of the buggy’s passenger. And I began to
suspect that the same thing probably happened to me at a similar age, and that the terrifying experience thus endured at
least partially accounts for my misanthropic tendency.
Monday, 7 March 2016
Maybe Misplaced Adoration.
I watched a scenario today which had all the makings of some
primitive pagan ritual. There was a baby buggy, presumably containing a baby,
and around it were three women. One had her head almost in the receptacle, and
she was uttering an unbroken string of high pitched cooing noises. The other
two stood slightly further away with their heads bowed, staring into the buggy with
adoring – or maybe that should be ‘simpering’ – smiles on their faces. Every so
often they would raise their heads in concert, lean backwards and murmur ‘ahhhh’
in stentorian tones, repeating the process about every ninety seconds. It was
quite fascinating and went on for at least ten minutes, while I looked on
enthralled.
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