In an idea world maybe,

Note the typo, which raises a certain pertinence perhaps, however so unwittingly, for even as I sit here looking out across Morecambe Bay to mountains of the Lake District on this quite beautiful morning (aren't they all?) I might ponder the nature of the idea, the ideal, and even the idyll, which I dare say this thread is to a certain extent; a series of such idylls, however so subjective, but all forming an objective totality in which we might reside content. To quote from Wiki (it won't happen again I promise you):

An idyll can... be a kind of painting, usually representing a pastor and his animals in a rural setting. They are depicted in a natural way, with the three components - man, animal and the environment - in a harmonious unity, preventing the picture from being either a landscape, or a genre, or just an image of an animal. Nature in this combination is presented in an unsophisticated, realistic fashion.

The subjects of such pictures are usually simple people living in uncivilised conditions, featuring naïvety in their thinking and yet leading a happy and cheerful life. The approach to the presentation is not humorous, but emotional, sometimes sentimental.

Food for thought perhaps even (all together now) on a Monday morning, but it was with such an idyll that WAV opened this thread which has proved to be an education for us all with life affecting consequences. For example, the drink of choice in Chez Sedayne right now is ice-cold cans of ASDA's Dandelion & Burdock.

Anyway, I think we've established that if ideal there is in the re-Imagined Village it is an all inclusive reality wherein we might celebrate a multiplicity of ideals in the one parish, just as ong as they remain positive - unlike WAVs Holy Law under which he'd have us cowering. No zoos. No immigration. No other music than E. Trads sung without accompaniment. An English concertina in every home on pain of death. Nothing that wasn't English. No other religion than Christianity. No other food but chips, stotty cake, rancid pottage and Kellog's Fruit & Fibre. No swearing. No Gay parenting. No fun.

Under such conditions you would find me living in the re-Imagined Council Estate celebrating a multiplicity of cultural & human realities that is our common cause; or else in the re-Imagined Small Seaside Town, such as the one in which I now reside, contentedly cosmopolitan in at least half of a utopian street-plan that suggests we focus on what matters most in life which, in the end, comes down to the basic necessities which are our right and entitlement anyway.

Now for breakfast.