Going down with Mister Chad
I have previously been deeply offended by overhearing my graceful features described as reptilian. One could blame the sun, or the wind, or even age as the reason for the leathery folds of weather beaten skin apparently hanging off my face. Personally, I prefer to put it down to a busy life spent gaining experience in the front line. However, there would appear to be some justice in the world after all. In order to recompense me for my wrinkled looks, The Big One Up There gave me the gift of voice. Not just any voice, mind, but a BBC World Service voice. Now, finally, after years of suffering torment, anguish and inner turmoil from this split identity, the two have at last become fused. For my name is Josh, and I am a turtle.
Well, actually, Im just the voice of a turtle. I wasnt even offered the option of a starring role. This was given, rather unfairly I thought considering my reptilian appearance, to a Hawksbill turtle in Shaab Ali - and what does he know ? 100 million years worth of evolution and he still cant tell the difference between a jellyfish and a plastic shopping bag. Not until its too late anyway. I agree that he can hold his breath longer than me, but then thats why tanks were invented. Now, thats something we humans are good at. Inventions. Ive often wondered why people still insist on walking when theres a perfectly acceptable car available, or rowing a boat whilst an outboard motor languishes idly in the corner. Watching Madonnas aerobics DVD on a 46 inch plasma screen is far more interesting than going to the gym, and just as beneficial. It raises ones heart rate, opens the pores, and the repeat button on the remote control exercises ones thumb more than adequately.
Of course, some of our inventions leave
a lot to be desired. In these days of carbon emission consciousness, when the power
required to run our monstrous air conditioning units throughout the summer produces a
carbon footprint the size of