World peace.

The world turns in an oblate spheroid kind of way about it's imperfect axis and as such these variations in rotation and shape dynamics cause tension. Not in the fabric of the world so much although earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes, and general devastation do play their part, no, I'm thinking of the human element, the fifth one.

We jolly well do our damnedest to cause conflict don't we. You might be thinking 'Hang on Shirley, I've never invaded Poland or hacked to death a whole nation 'cos they looked at me funny', but let me tell you, we're all (even glorious me) ready for a punch up. Remember the last time someone cut you up on the road or didn't hold the door of a shop for you? You muttered something under your breath (how exactly do you do that?) or maybe stuck a finger or two up, maybe even made the 'WANKER' sign at them.

Sometimes a little gesture is all it takes. Imagine if you will a trip to a supermarket, that's the place chaps where ladies go to spend money on exotic products that can't be deep fried, fried, or drunk. During your trip whilst searching for those twisted reconstituted chicken lumps that the kids like, you inadvertently bump trolleys at the frozen foods cabinet. The chunky gold bedecked tattooed family beside you don't like it and it all kicks off. Before the Daily Mail has had time to write a scaremongering witless title, The Battle of Greenhithe has become an event. It escalates beyond the frozen aisle as sides are taken with small similarities keeping people together.

'That man has the same logo on his jumper, I'll side with those people' and so on. In the first aisle a man has just died from having a frozen fish finger thrust through his ear, it's getting nasty.

You may laugh but over the years, battles have raged and at some point the very reason for the start becomes lost as the human passion for conflict drives the horror onward.

Then, it snowed. Yes, that's right, snow. This week we've had in excess of 15" of it in North Kent over just a few days. Day two saw six of us from my road out there clearing the road, talking and joking and generally keeping up morale as we went. Day three saw the same as fresh snow fell overnight. Even on day four when I managed to drive my car to work, those that I walked past in order to get to where I'd parked it were cheerful in our exchanged greetings. 

Maybe it's just a British thing, but we all get together and sort it out when it snows hard. Let's experiment, rather than investing billions in armament and defense, the boffins working on a giant snow machine to coat any part of the world about to descend into chaos in several feet of the white stuff. Instant cooperation guaranteed.

So then, there it is, a not very complete manifesto for World peace. The snow has gone now, would you all mind if we got on with ignoring each other again, at least until the next natural phenomenon pulls us together. Thank you.