Life had order to it then you knew what was expected of you. You were born, you went to school, you left, got a job, married, had kids, died and went to heaven. This was the road to happiness that’s what every one followed and they were happy, weren’t they? To show you were on the right path you had to acquire the correct stuff. The doors had to be flushed. That is a sheet of hard board nailed over them so they were nice and flat. We were just catching up with the Deco Style. Your best room had to have a three-piece suite, a tiled fireplace with a mantelpiece crammed with brass ornaments and a china cabinet with your coronation mugs and souvenirs. Things like inside toilets etc came later.

When you’d got all these things, you could relax assured you’d done right and wait for the end with a quiet confidence. You could sleep, with your flushed doors unlocked, confident that you wouldn’t be burgled because you’d nothing worth pinching. Now every body is confused because the list keeps changing and it’s getting longer. People are having to build stone fireplaces with extended mantle pieces to get all their stuff on. The secret’s a short list and an achievable limited palette.

Back then we looked at our betters, the people with good stuff, and we knew that if we followed what they did we were in with a chance of getting more good stuff before going to heaven. Meanwhile in Melanesia (New Hebrides), in the middle of the jungle, the natives were putting up fences where there wasn’t anything to fence in and building odd, non-functional gates that secured nothing. Forming themselves into lines they would march up and down with sticks over their shoulders. Having lived on the islands for hundreds of years without doing these things. They now feel compelled do them because they believe that if they perform these meaningless rituals their god, “John From,”(Pronounced, frum.) will send them everything they need. How do they know this? They know this because they’ve seen it happen many times.

The American soldiers on the island put up fences and gates and march up and down all for no apparent reason. Then, every so often, an aeroplane comes with a cargo of; fridges, radios, toasters, cigarettes, doughnuts, bubble gum and coca-cola. So it was obvious to the islanders the reason for this apparently pointless marching and building could only be a form of worship. They concluded, if they do the same things “John From,” will send them the same stuff, which they believe should have come to them in the first place.

Because these people were originally cannibals, Paul Theroux reckoned they were very fond of Spam because it was the nearest thing to human flesh. If they couldn't get Spam they'd eat 'corpsey' flavoured corned beef. ‘The Cargo Cult,’ still exists today and they’re still waiting for the goodies.

They now also revere Prince Philip of England. He’s living proof that if you do the right things, no matter how bizarre, every thing will be handed to you on a plate. Here they see a man who apparently only walks up and down in fancy clothes and he is given everything he wants. He is living proof that the method works. I imagine somewhere in Melanesia a native is walking up and down with his hands tucked into a pin-striped bark loin cloth, attractive banana skin epaulettes, shell medals and a nice plaited palm sash with a star fish on it. A lesser native might respectfully say to him,
“How was you’re coconut today sir?”
“Have you ever had a coconut?” Prince Phil would ask.
“Yes,” would come the reply.
Then the fake Phil, emulating the wit of his counterpart, would reply, “Well it was like that, now bugger off.”
This all may seem simple-minded and far away but a chap in Brighouse once stopped me. He’d spotted that I was wearing various finger rings. He informed me that this was not the done thing. His code for success in life was simple;
“If Prince Philip doesn’t do it then I don’t.” He said.
The last time I heard about this chap, he was living on state benefits. What more proof do you need, that in a way, he was right?

So, we all see the same world around us but arrive at different conclusions, not always wrong, but different. For example, ballet dancing to a deaf person. One deaf lad watching ballet on television saw a grown man in tights standing with his feet in the ten minutes to two o’clock position, his arms curved above his head whilst he gazed intently at his extended forefinger. The lad concluded this could only mean one thing; this weird person had just removed some of the contents of his nose and was holding them up to the light to get a better look. This image he had of something in the hearing world, he thought very amusing and he elaborated on it when re-enacting the incident to his mates in the playground.

First he’d stand in the ballet position with his forefinger up his nose. After a twiddle of his foot he’d then remove an imaginary bogey from his nose. Holding it up he would gaze at it lovingly and then start the dance. Bringing his finger to his thumb he’d dramatically flick the invisible snot into the air. Watching it go up, he follow it’s flight path with his eyes. Then on it’s descent, he’d dance forward,catching it in his mouth. Then with raised eyebrows, he’d look amazed at his empty finger, which he would then stick back up his nose to evacuate more snot. All sorts of pirouettes, jumps and ballet steps would follow, whilst he extracted copious amounts from his nose. Finally he’d stick both left and right index finger up each nostril. Elegantly removing the fingers, he’d extend his arms as if pulling out two long stretchy chewing gum like bogies. It was rather like the action of a dancer delicately holding out her skirt to do a curtsy. He would bow, with arms out. The silent snot dance was over. It all had a meaning now, so we cheered, various speech impediments permitting.