We're now on week four of 'thinking about politics' being not a hobby one can dip in and out of but a relentless high pitched ringing sound dominating every waking hour. This morning's episode of 'Apocalypse: 2016' brings the news that eleven time winner of 'worst man in the world' Donald Trump has officially won the Republican nomination. We knew that was coming though. It's been on its way for ages now, like a root canal we booked in last Autumn.
I've been following Donald Trump on twitter for a good few years now - you could say I discovered him. I used to find him hilarious. Every couple of days he'd sit there for literally two hours, retweeting compliments. Some faulty chromosome would tweet him something like 'You're the best Mr Trump' and he'd let us know, adding a 'thanks'. And then he'd do it again and again and again. It's my theory that these 'I'm so great' tweeting sessions were done whilst he was on the toilet pushing out pound after pound of red meat.
I found it funny that a man, so clearly damaged in some way, could broadcast his narcissism to the world. Who are these freaks who tweet him? I thought. There can't be that many. He must be retweeting every single compliment. Well, it turns out his twitter fans represented a tiny proportion of a much larger group of Americans who were not only prepared to throw praise at a giant sweaty baby but were also willing to campaign for him to be the custodian of the greatest nuclear arsenal the world has ever seen.
Americans eh?! Ha! Aren't they crazy?! The more I think about it, the more I reckon the despair of the last few weeks has not been down to sorrow at leaving the European Union but has been serious grief over the loss of a great British pastime - looking down on Americans. Yesterday saw Boris 'I didn't fuck a pig at Oxford but I'll probably do it on television one day' Johnson's first joint press conference as Foreign Secretary. You've probably seen it. Essentially, a series of American journalists ask him 'Aren't you a bit of a cunt?' and we witness his realisation that the 'mumble, mumble, big word, tousle hair' defence looks silly when you're standing next to a grown up like John Kerry.
Since the Blair/Clinton era we have moaned about slick politicians spouting soundbites. Well, not anymore. A chant... What do we want? Less slick politicians! Who shall we replace them with? Transparently hideous and incompetent people! I give it three months before Rylan is Home Secretary.
A few months ago Trump said that he could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and not lose voters. There's someone in Britain who could do that too. There is literally nothing that the cult of Jeremy Corbyn would not forgive him. Corbyn could join ISIS this morning and by lunchtime there'd be 600 memes hailing his diplomacy.
Are you back on Corbyn mate? Yeah, sorry. If 95% of my time these days is spent thinking about news, 95% of that time is spent thinking about Corbyn. In six months time when I eventually die from too much news, Corbyn's beardy face will be the last thing I think of.
Here's reason number 214 I hate the cult of Corbyn - there's this idea that he's returning the Labour Party to its roots, bringing back old Labour, virtuous Labour. Corbyn fucking hated old Labour. Corbyn didn't just vote against Blair and Brown at virtually every opportunity, he hated Kinnock too. Next time someone calls the MPs who started the 'coup' to get rid of him 'disloyal' ask them about when he was part of the leadership challenge to Neil Kinnock in 1988. Plotter! Oh yeah, but Kinnock wasn't TRUE Labour was he? Then who was? Clement Attlee? Well, it was Clement Attlee who introduced the atom bomb to Britain so you can be sure that Corbyn would have been trying to get rid of him. Since Corbyn has been an MP he has consistently voted against every Labour leader. So maybe, just maybe, it is not his 'disloyal' Labour MPs who are in the wrong party - it's him.
I am now the man who brings every conversation onto his pet subject. I'm like your Uncle who doesn't go an hour without mentioning how speed bumps are destroying the country. Look out for a future post in which I question why 2016's socialist workers movement seems to have far more former boarding school pupils than manual workers.
Look at me. You are witnessing an actor destroy his career with a series of unasked for rants about his industry's favourite ever politician.
I need to finish this on some kind of positive note. The other day I caught me self thinking the old 'why would anyone want to bring a child into a world so awful?' thought. But then I thought about what the world was like when I was born in 1980; Britain had just had the 'winter of discontent' and the three day week and was starting a decade of Thatcher, half of Europe was enslaved, Apartheid was in full swing, Pol Pot was still in business, nuclear war seemed inevitable and Jim Davidson was on the TV. And yet, somehow, my 36 years have been relatively lovely. There's always a thousand reasons why the world is going to shit. But if you are reading this then the chances are that you, like me, live somewhere where the weather is sunny today and if you want to you can, like me, go for a little walk and treat yourself to a 99 ice cream.
I've been following Donald Trump on twitter for a good few years now - you could say I discovered him. I used to find him hilarious. Every couple of days he'd sit there for literally two hours, retweeting compliments. Some faulty chromosome would tweet him something like 'You're the best Mr Trump' and he'd let us know, adding a 'thanks'. And then he'd do it again and again and again. It's my theory that these 'I'm so great' tweeting sessions were done whilst he was on the toilet pushing out pound after pound of red meat.
I found it funny that a man, so clearly damaged in some way, could broadcast his narcissism to the world. Who are these freaks who tweet him? I thought. There can't be that many. He must be retweeting every single compliment. Well, it turns out his twitter fans represented a tiny proportion of a much larger group of Americans who were not only prepared to throw praise at a giant sweaty baby but were also willing to campaign for him to be the custodian of the greatest nuclear arsenal the world has ever seen.
Americans eh?! Ha! Aren't they crazy?! The more I think about it, the more I reckon the despair of the last few weeks has not been down to sorrow at leaving the European Union but has been serious grief over the loss of a great British pastime - looking down on Americans. Yesterday saw Boris 'I didn't fuck a pig at Oxford but I'll probably do it on television one day' Johnson's first joint press conference as Foreign Secretary. You've probably seen it. Essentially, a series of American journalists ask him 'Aren't you a bit of a cunt?' and we witness his realisation that the 'mumble, mumble, big word, tousle hair' defence looks silly when you're standing next to a grown up like John Kerry.
Since the Blair/Clinton era we have moaned about slick politicians spouting soundbites. Well, not anymore. A chant... What do we want? Less slick politicians! Who shall we replace them with? Transparently hideous and incompetent people! I give it three months before Rylan is Home Secretary.
A few months ago Trump said that he could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and not lose voters. There's someone in Britain who could do that too. There is literally nothing that the cult of Jeremy Corbyn would not forgive him. Corbyn could join ISIS this morning and by lunchtime there'd be 600 memes hailing his diplomacy.
Are you back on Corbyn mate? Yeah, sorry. If 95% of my time these days is spent thinking about news, 95% of that time is spent thinking about Corbyn. In six months time when I eventually die from too much news, Corbyn's beardy face will be the last thing I think of.
Here's reason number 214 I hate the cult of Corbyn - there's this idea that he's returning the Labour Party to its roots, bringing back old Labour, virtuous Labour. Corbyn fucking hated old Labour. Corbyn didn't just vote against Blair and Brown at virtually every opportunity, he hated Kinnock too. Next time someone calls the MPs who started the 'coup' to get rid of him 'disloyal' ask them about when he was part of the leadership challenge to Neil Kinnock in 1988. Plotter! Oh yeah, but Kinnock wasn't TRUE Labour was he? Then who was? Clement Attlee? Well, it was Clement Attlee who introduced the atom bomb to Britain so you can be sure that Corbyn would have been trying to get rid of him. Since Corbyn has been an MP he has consistently voted against every Labour leader. So maybe, just maybe, it is not his 'disloyal' Labour MPs who are in the wrong party - it's him.
I am now the man who brings every conversation onto his pet subject. I'm like your Uncle who doesn't go an hour without mentioning how speed bumps are destroying the country. Look out for a future post in which I question why 2016's socialist workers movement seems to have far more former boarding school pupils than manual workers.
Look at me. You are witnessing an actor destroy his career with a series of unasked for rants about his industry's favourite ever politician.
I need to finish this on some kind of positive note. The other day I caught me self thinking the old 'why would anyone want to bring a child into a world so awful?' thought. But then I thought about what the world was like when I was born in 1980; Britain had just had the 'winter of discontent' and the three day week and was starting a decade of Thatcher, half of Europe was enslaved, Apartheid was in full swing, Pol Pot was still in business, nuclear war seemed inevitable and Jim Davidson was on the TV. And yet, somehow, my 36 years have been relatively lovely. There's always a thousand reasons why the world is going to shit. But if you are reading this then the chances are that you, like me, live somewhere where the weather is sunny today and if you want to you can, like me, go for a little walk and treat yourself to a 99 ice cream.
No comments:
Post a Comment