3. W.I.H.E. Festival: Dis-Member - Matthew Nash - Plumpton, England

 The Health of a Nation – Matthew Nash

What is it to lose a member? A member of your family, a member of your club, or a member of your own body, it can be a traumatic experience, whether it be body politic or body corporal...

If I accidentally chopped off a finger, I would try to append it, or hope that a skilled craftsman could stitch it back on for me.

It seems that the British body politic (or some part thereof) is determined to cut off it their nose to spite their face. They claimed not to like their face, for fear that it was too open, too wide, or too brown, for it had been looking too much towards the East or the South. Or they found some other spurious reason to take issue with it.

And so, having voted by a narrow margin to cut off their own nose, they seemed determined to go ahead with the procedure, and their most skilled wordsmiths and craftsmen of Legalese were doubtful that they would be able to stitch it back on afterwards, or even append it somehow. 

Some members thought that they could simply detach the nose and append it to another body, but when they saw the pallid complexion of the new body, and how violent and obese it was, they were not so sure after all...

 

The surgeon gave them 2 or 3 years to re-consider, and yet they were hell-bent on proceeding regardless of the grave medical side-effects. 

There was so much internal conflict within the body, when the heart and other members realised that they might really go ahead with it and cut off their own nose.

The tongue objected because life would not taste as good, and all the flavours of good cuisine would be muted and bland. 

The lungs would have trouble to breathe, and if there was no longer a sweet aroma of fresh clean air on the English breeze, the lungs were concerned that the body might just try giving up oxygen altogether, hoping to survive purely on second-hand smoke laden with the fumes of diesel or shale gas.

Every other organ of the body came forward with some objection or other. In the end, there was only one member left who was willing to go ahead with it. 

The Johnson was foolish and impetuous, and when he got out of control, he would rush in and do all manner of ridiculous, stupid things trying to over-ride the Brain, and then drag the rest of the organs into the fight. 

Everyone knew somehow that it was a bad idea to let the Johnson do the thinking, but somehow he managed to gain control. The rush of blood, the blood of power and self-interest, went to his head, and he tried to drain the brain of its capacity to think straight. 

Quietly, in the background, Jiminy Cricket, the conscience, kept piping up, insisting that it was time to start listening to him, instead of letting the Johnson do all the talking and decision making.

The Johnson even tried to shut down the brain altogether, hoping that no-one would notice, but fortunately, the more judicious parts of the brain realized what was going on and prevented it from happening. There was so much paralysis, that none of the organs or members knew anymore what to do. 

It was agreed that there were not many ways out of the situation, especially since the Johnson was so conceited that he would not give up willingly, as that would be an insult to his pride and dignity (of which he had barely a shred left anyway).

One of the ways out was for there to be a grand showdown – a fight between the Conscience and the Johnson. Since Jiminy wasn't fond of fighting in any case, they would need to ask all the organs to take another vote, and to make sure that they were all more fully informed this time of the severe consequences of severing their own nose. 

There was some concern that the message still wouldn't get through to the extremities, the furthest away and dullest parts of the body that had the least circulation, but they had to do their best and start working together more.

Even the toes were starting to reconsider and only the toenails and split ends were holding out for as long as possible, because they didn't feel much and had never cared much for the Nose anyway. 

Meanwhile, other bodies politic, from the African continent, were chopping off their darkest toes - the ones that danced and kept them stable, and could stand the hot desert sand. These toes were forced to flee and make their way across the desert and the sea, hoping that they could join the body that had just voted to cut off its nose. 

Let us hope that conscience will win the battle, and we get to Re-member. That we remember how to get back to being a healthy happy body once again, by keeping our Nose and gaining a few extra toes along the way!!!