lambs to the slaughter

these past few days i've been doing some pretty strange things while sorting the mess out in my room to facilitate the much dreaded packing process come time for me to get the luggage out. and from a bunch of magazines under my bed (literally), i fished out a book that looked interestingly familiar.

it was roald dahl's collection of short stories. and being the bored soul that i was and still am, i decided that what the heck, i might as well read it again since i can't really remember any of it (if i ever even read it that is).


and as fortune (or fate) would have it, it was only short stories. i just couldn't imagine myself going through a full length book at this juncture. it's been a while since i last touched anything that even remotely resembled material worthy of actual reading.

and i finished the book cover to cover twice before realizing that i couldn't stop reading it. roald dahl had never interested me like he did other kids. i'd always been more of a tom clancy/dale brown kind of guy. but somehow i got hooked this time round. maybe it's his dark, sinister writing style, maybe it's the cynical, black-comedy sort of narrative.

and the story that stood out for me was lambs to the slaughter. somehow when you're a kid you never think too much reading these type of stories. you merely treat them as fictitious work with no apparent motive other than to entertain. but i guess as you grow older you can see the writer's intentions much more clearly and you start to hypothesize about certain hidden agendas, much like how roald dahl was trying to reflect the depravity, violence and cruelty in our societies. that's how i saw it anyway.

other than being an interesting read, the title has again inflicted memories of the good old school days. as we all know too well, this time of year is the often apprehended block tests (aka blocks) season.

the signs are ominous and those eleventh-hour buddha feet unsurprisingly in hot demand among the resident school population. besides the disappointing fact that the holidays have come to an end, most people are probably crapping their pants over the prospect of a catastrophic failure.

like lambs to the slaughter, how very appropriete.


+listening to: yer blues by jeff healey