Jan
Saddle Up A Buzz-Buzz
This morning my brain went ping! "Wake up, you stupid bastard!" exactly one hour before the time set on my alarm clock. [How does it do this? Or does it react telepathically to someone else's alarm clock one time zone east, for example in Dusseldorf?]
Actually, I didn't mind: it interrupted a dream/nightmare in which I'd been forced, somehow, to go horse-riding: and I wasn't enjoying it at all.
Regular readers will know I'm an advocate of animal rights generally1, and that I would like to do whatever I can to help maintain the fantastic diversity of the animal kingdom.
The one exception – the one species that I wouldn't mind if it went the way of the dodo tomorrow – is the horse.
There are many reasons for this, some which are personal – my biological sister was/is a horse lover2 – and some of which are more political – horse-liking is primarily a middle- and upper-class pursuit in this country, often the preserve of spoilt rich social-climber-wannabe girls [to which status my sister aspired, and still aspires] and the kind of spoilt rich gentry guys who think packs of dogs tearing foxes to pieces is "sport".
Now, I don't doubt that, as the splendiferous Steph has previously protested, in other countries the horse has a different position in the social order, and that one can actually get on board without having to deal with upper-class twuntarsery: it's something I'll try when/if/ever I get out to those sort of places.
But right now you're slightly more likely to see me in a McVomit's uniform3 than in tight jodhpurs.
…The crops, though, are a different matter entirely….
Housework Week Update: Omigawd, you mean I have to hide all this assorted equipment in my bedroom?
Simile Of The Week: [from Charlie Brooker last night]: "'The Brighton Belles'4 was about half as funny as running over your child with a car fitted with barbed wire tyres…
…
…on Christmas Day."
footfetishnotes:1 Though not at the expense of human rights, and certainly not in a violent fashion as some ultras- have gone about protesting.
2 Or, as I once drunkenly called her at a big family do quite a few Xmases ago, a "horse-fucker".
3 i.e. both of these are in the "cold day in hell / flying pigs / non-boring Bob Dylan record" kind of total unlikeliness category.
4 A piss-poor attempt about fifteen years ago to make a UK version of "The Golden Girls", only without any of the redeeming qualities, such as anything at all that would make anybody laugh.
January 10th, 2007 at 16:21
I was SO disappointed by Brighton Belles – everything should have been in its favour – the fact it was based on a great series, the cast and so on. But I saw the first ever episode and didn't stick it to the first commercial break. It was shite.
See also "Married With Children."
January 10th, 2007 at 16:41
I think horses are gorgeous creatures, but I don't do well attempting to ride one. (or rather – the day after attempting to ride one…)
Around here horseback riding certainly isn't just for the upper classes… My niece owns one, as a matter of fact.
January 11th, 2007 at 5:26
I rode a horse barebacked in a small theme park back in Ukraine when I was about 6. I was terrified. Dug my little fingers into its mane and clung for dear life. It didn't seem to mind though, I apologized afterwards by petting it and giving it a sugar cube.
Also – mmm, crops…
January 11th, 2007 at 5:28
Also, all those things seem to be hatred for things associated with horses, so no need to hate the horses themselves since they've no idea they're causing all that trouble.
January 11th, 2007 at 5:43
Tee hee. Could you feel my dander rising as you typed? Thanks for heading me off at the pass. Seriously, horses are gorgeous creatures. They are smart and loyal but will also not hesitate to put you in your place because they are excellent judges of people intelligence. Come visit and I'll introduce you to some.
Riding crop optional, of course. Heh.
January 11th, 2007 at 8:01
Essential, I'd've said…
January 11th, 2007 at 14:09
My uncle used to shoe horses – he was a blacksmith. Massive big things they were – Clydesdales – you'd know all about it if one of them dropped a s**t on your head….;-)
January 11th, 2007 at 14:33
That's funny, I never thought of horses in that way. I suppose over here we're a little more removed from the whole "jump on a horse, grab a pack of dogs, and hunt some quail" phenomenon. Mostly, I wonder why horses stand around in enclosed spaces in the middle of a suburban town – what are they used for? No farms, no hunting, no riding… What is the purpose served by all these horses just standing around? *mystified*
January 11th, 2007 at 14:37
Oh and I'll add that my one experience riding a horse – it was supposed to be a tame, calm, gentle horse and all of a sudden it broke into a gallop. Imagine a ridiculous sitcom with the poor girl clinging for dear life to the saddlehorn while bouncing slowly from the back of the horse to its side (heading for its underside) and then clambering her way desperately back up.
That makes me a little more sympathetic to your cause.
January 11th, 2007 at 18:34
Count another one in with the "it isn't the fault of the horses if tossers see them as a status symbol", er, party.
I used to go riding every week at my local stables when I was a teenager, and was one of the legion of girls who hung around for hours after class just for the chance to help clean tack or muck out stables or feed the horses polo mints whatever. I *did* encounter the types of social-climbing girls you mention, on occasion, but there was one big difference between them and us – they *owned* their horses (not that I'm suggesting everyone who owns a horse is like that – but there was a definite correlation…). We just spent our free time appreciating the joy of other people's. 
(Perhaps it helps that said stables was Up North?
)
January 11th, 2007 at 21:40
Oh dear god. The general drift of this (and particularly shoenote #2) has brought back to mind a hideous incident, chronicled on Fandom Wank. Now I'm going to be forced to link it on LJ tomorrow.
January 13th, 2007 at 4:30
I don't dislike horses. However, up close they make me nervous. I doubt I'll ever ride one.