I found myself watching Katy Perry’s Part of Me. Not the part I’d hoped, instead, her life story up to her 29th year. The soaring heights of a sell-out tour and whirlwind romance with foul-thoughted, bo-ho lothario, Russell Brand, and the stifling lows of continuing on a sell-out tour while her marriage split, rather predictably, asunder. To say it was a rollercoaster ride, would seriously undermine Alton Towers’ marketing strategy. In her magnum opus, Firework, Perry asks us if we, “ever feel like a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?”
No.
The next day, my girlfriend and I had planned to visit the site of the Bristol Balloon Fiesta, and by sheer coincidence, the darn thing was on at the same time. We left the house on Saturday evening, hoping to reach Ashton Court in time for the famous nightglow. For the uninitiated, the nightglow sees the illumination of barely coordinated bags of hot air for the purposes of entertainment, a bit like Prime Minister’s Questions. I didn’t want to go, but I had to out of some misguided sense of duty.
Today, I had a nosebleed that lasted for almost half an hour. I felt like a depressed celebrity, but with the life leaking out of my nose, while I hid in a toilet so nobody could see my secret shame. I usually have very good bodily control, I can count the times I’ve lost control of my urethral sphincter on two hands, my anal sphincter just once. I should make it clear I had eaten some dodgy mussels, it wasn’t like I’d just got sloppy. It was a grim day, I had to print new business cards.
That last example was truly tenuous, misleading even. But my point is, I very rarely, if ever, do something I don’t want to unless I have a good reason. Whether it’s because of my friends and family, out of some form of duty, or just because my body says it’s time, there is still a reason.
So, when a politician pushes green issues with one hand, and backs the relentless hunt for mainland gas supplies with the other, I mean, fracking hell Dave! I’m not necessarily for or against its use or extraction, it’s the two-faced hypocrisy.
Someone thought it was a good idea to have vans roam the home counties asking illegal immigrants to go home. Someone genuinely thinks this is the right thing to do. In my view, these vans could be better used. When I’m out, having had a few too many drinks, I could use a gentle reminder that a warm bed awaits me at home. “LEE, YOU’RE DRUNK,” the sign would patronise appropriately, “GO HOME BEFORE YOU DO SOMETHING YOU REGRET. AND NO, YOU DON’T WANT A KEBAB.”
When the government announced plans to effectively privatise the NHS, I could think of no positive outcome, no silver lining. I can’t even imagine that someone thinks there is a greater good in play here, this can only be icy cool, calculated greed. There is no, “Well I don’t want to do it, but in the end we’ll all be better off.” Borderline sociopathic.
It’s enough to give you a bad back, eh Dave?
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