Behave yourselves, you naughty boys.
The escalating feud between Nigel Pike on one side and Dr Frank, Eric Bahrt and Simon Ordsall on the other, is getting increasingly childish. I suspect that their mothers didn’t spank them enough when they were young.
I tend to favour Nigel – not because he is necessarily right, but because he has a sense of humour. His advice to Dr Frank to keep his bottom against the wall because rapes are up 31 per cent is singularly diverting. But Dr Frank’s constant chortling over his steaks named Eric suggests that his bottom may be too well padded to tempt any but the most desperate rapist.
Eric Bahrt admits that he (Eric) gets nasty at times. If you know it, Eric, then stop it. Your constant stream of self-righteous vitriol, calling everybody liars and fools, makes you by far the most disagreeable and most unloved contributor to this column. Nigel Pike jokingly suggests that Dr Frank, Simon Ordsall, and Noah Zarke may be guilty of child abuse, and the humourless Ordsall rises to the bait by demanding a full apology. He’s joshing, Simon. You want to sue him for libel? Hang him? Crucify him? Peel his bottom from the wall and throw him to the rapists?
My husband, Horace Beasley, thinks that Nigel should fly up from Phang Nga, Eric should fly down from Chiang Mai, and both should meet Simon and Dr Frank to patch up their differences over several friendly beers on Soi Cowboy. Invite Robin Grant for additional fun. Horace volunteers to referee, but he demurs at getting stuck with the bill and stipulates that somebody should pay not only for his beer, but also for his counselling services.
In brief, grow up, boys. Should this peace initiative fail, try settling your differences through a series of duels with pistols at dawn. You could charge admission.
Ever seeking a more peaceful planet,
Constance Beasley (Mrs)