FURTHERMORE
By Gerry Moran
You f****d up DJ. F****d up real bad. You lied to people. Stole their money. Abused their trust. Exploited their generosity. Their humanity. And their vulnerability. You’ve been labelled as evil. I don’t think you’re evil, DJ Carey – I think you’re a flawed human being like most of us but, unlike most of us, you have fallen from a great height and angered a lot of people who feel betrayed.
I am not angered. Profoundly disappointed yes, but then I have not given you money but I am familiar with cancer. My sister died of cancer at the age of 45. Five weeks ago I stood at the grave of a good friend who succumbed to cancer and I, myself, have had a run in with it (all clear now).
DJ, I have sympathy for you. But I’m in the minority. We may no longer be a nation of Catholics but I did think we held on to our Christianity. Forgive and forget? We will never forget but it seems to me that we will never forgive either. Talk about kicking a man when he’s down – they’re not kicking you, DJ, they’re trampling all over you.
I have sympathy for you DJ, because I too am human and flawed – like many, if not most, people on this planet. Maybe I take a little comfort from that line in the Bible: “The just man falls seven times but will rise up again.” I do hope you’ll rise up again, DJ and I hope that in this ‘the dark night of your soul’ you’ll find the strength to get you through your prison sentence. I am also hoping that, regardless of the taunting, sneering and abuse you’ll be subject to – someone will befriend you, show you the ropes, and make the loneliness of your prison days a little more tolerable. I mention this as I’ve just read Boris Becker’s book Inside, about his time in a UK prison. Boris (whose fall from grace is not dissimilar to yours) was a target because of his fame – six Grand Slam titles and the youngest to win the men’s Wimbledon title, aged 17. However, one hardened criminal, took him under his wing, and made prison life somewhat more bearable for him.
And then there’s the Righteous, DJ, who never f****d up in their entire lives. All above and beyond reproach. No skeletons in their closets, not even an off-colour mothball. Like a jury who’s only heard the prosecution’s side they have a tendency to rush to judgement and condemn without hearing the entire defence. It saddens me how they can crush you with their righteousness and moral indignation. They would hang, draw and quarter you if they could. Not my favourite people, DJ. And hardly yours.
Lord, how I hate the righteous
The proud, the proper, the prim
The upright, the uptight, the uppish
Who frown on our flaws, our sin
Lord, I’m just your average fellow
Not for me the high moral ground
I stumble, I fall, I falter
But my heart, I believe, is ‘sound’
Lord, I really don’t hate the righteous
They just make me nervous, that’s all
Their judgemental eyes, their virtuous airs
Make me feel about one foot tall
Lord, I truly hate hating the righteous
I’m bad enough as I am
Without being caustic and callous
Towards the wholesome woman and man
On reflection, I DO hate the righteous
So cometh the Judgement Day
Lord, slot me in with the sinners
I’ll feel more at home down their way
And as for the good and the righteous
The wholesome, holier-than-thee
Lord, give them their well-earned halos
Just keep them – far away from me
