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Date: 25/05/15

We're All Foxed

Sunday's letters page in the Independent contained a contribution which jolted me back in my seat.

(It's here: the third letter down)

Written by Mr Peter Booker of Northumberland, it states:

"Sport? On one side a pack of 20 or 30 well-fed hounds, on the other a solitary fox, living on its wits in a hostile environment, trying to bring up a family and often going hungry. If the hounds win they get to tear apart a fox, and if they lose - nothing. For the fox, to lose is to die, to win - live until the next hunt. People get on horseback, in fancy dress, to ride across other people's land in the hope of seeing a fox torn to shreds. And they call it "sport"."

I was transfixed because in its entirety it offers the perfect illustration of what many of us know has gone wrong in our world in the last forty years. Just consider:

I think that Mr Booker has delineated a near-perfect metaphor for the way in which our 'society' has been ordered (and ordered around) since about 1976, and I congratulate him on it.