I am not resolving, I am revolting.
I don’t want a New Year, New Me- I quite like the old me- I have been working for 40 years to achieve this level of imperfect but happy disarray, and I am not about to chuck it all out and start again.
I will not be partaking in your snake oil diet prescriptives. Yes, I need to lose weight – No, I don’t believe your ridiculous claims. Move more, eat less- it is that simple- you just need to be in the right frame of mind for it. Which I am not, I am in the frame of mind for eating the many boxes of chocolates in the house post Christmas, and for plates of steaming hot comfort food. I will get back to you about my spare tyre in about March, when I may give more of a shite about it.
My cultural revolt is this- Stephen Moffat should be in charge of all TV. The only things worth watching are done by him. I don’t want to see another reality/talent/celebrity shake your arse event ever again ever. I want to see top class drama. Interesting documentaries. And high quality music television. I am revolting against the lowest common denominator crap TV that gets shoved in all our faces, and that our teenagers feel they have to watch just so they can have something to talk to each other at school about. When I was a teenager we talked about how we hated Thatcher, and how to make Marxism work, and whether the Pixies were better than The Smiths (They are, but it is a close call….) Better than talking about some Geordie woman pissing her bed surely?!
No, David Cameron, things are not looking up for most of us, rather they are looking decidedly moth ridden in the wallet department, so if you could see your way clear to remove your head from the arse of the rich and help the rest of us out a bit it would be appreciated. I know you won’t though, hence the revolting. We should all be revolting. About poverty. About the state of the NHS. About the treatment of the sick, the disabled, the poor. About the arrogance of government. About the lack of care and kindness. It shouldn’t be a case of every man for themselves, but everyone for each other. Let’s all hold hands and see this load of preening bastards off together.