Shock! Horror! Crocodile Tears!

Since becoming one of Pearlie's carers I have, on more than one occasion, been accused of being 'hard-hearted'. Thankfully no-one under the age of eighty has, so far,  been my accuser. 

But am I hard-hearted? Are there some things I just don't 'get'? Take this incredibly dumb programme I watched last night - it was all about the "Canoe Man' John Darwin and his buck-toothed wife who, between them,  defrauded insurance companies and government agencies of fairly large sums of money. Straightaway no pity there, nor for their stupid sons, who feel betrayed at the duplicity of their parents. I hope the dosh they got for selling their story to the News of the World went some way to ease their pain. 

Did I feel a sympathetic frisson for the silly woman who went into a business venture with Canoe Man after meeting him online during 'war games'?  Not one bit did I care about her trauma at his general weirdness or his insistence on removing his trousers in public. After all she freely admitted she got him run out of town leaving her with their dilapidated 'business venture' to manage all on her ownsome. So what if he sent her death threats. She was silly. She deserved it.

But the full blast of my cold-hearted scorn I reserved for the 'heart-broken' family 'devastated' by the fact that John Darwin appropriated the identity of their brother who had died in infancy. There they sat weeping crocodile tears and saying things like 'what kind of scum could....' about a child they'd probably not given a thought to in decades - if ever.  Of all the selfish, shitty things that John Darwin ever did, I reckon that one was pretty far down the list. But then I don't have a brother who died half a century ago and a chance to get on the telly and sob about it.

Tell you who I did feel sorry for - the lifeboat crew who spent all that time futilely searching for the wanker and who had to go back to harbour feeling that they'd failed someone.