Saturday, 8 October 2011


I am a communist for approximately 30 hours a week.
When I'm at work, confronted by a sea of privileged, gormless faces then I am a communist. When I am confronted by twelve generally civil although intellectually sub-normal individuals who've achieved everything they'll ever achieve through inheritance or the skilful application of their cunts, it is then that I become a communist.
I realise that as a white, British man, born into a middle-class family, twice university educated, with very little experience of ever having done a job of work in his whole entire life*, I am perhaps not in the ideal position to complain but dash it all I'm going to. One might assume that given the wide spectrum of human experience available to those fortunate enough to have the money to pay for it that a group of 12 very rich young people would have done some interesting things, have had some interesting experiences, have something, anything to say for themselves. This would be an erroneous assumption. Examples:
"So, Turkish woman with astonishingly right wing views and a squint, what do you think the biggest differences between London and Istanbul are?"
"I don't know."
"And Saudi boy with Louis Vuitton i-phone cover and memory capacity of an elderly gerbil, what have you done in London so far that you've enjoyed?"
"Shopping and Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals."
"Not so much with the British Museum then? Likewise the Tate Modern? Didn't swing by the DonMar Warehouse? Haven't been to any gigs or anything? It's been mainly buying trashy designer labels and nodding along to Phantom of the twatting Opera, right?"
What gets on my nerves is that this is a collection of people who've done nothing, who've been given everything and who still find fault with the world in which they're living. Also they are thick. Stupid. Intellectually sub-normal. What in former times, when people were less kind with their words, might have been described as simple-minded--thickingtons. And they've got everything. It's not that I want more for myself, it's just that it is against all justice that they should have more than me. It's a fuck-load more against all justice that they should have more that the road sweepers, child prostitutes, sewage workers and starving masses of the world, i.e. those that achieve or deserve, but for now let's concentrate on me. I know that I'm smarter, kinder and harder working than they are, so, Mr. Jesus, tell me why the fuck should they be so much more cocking privileged? Because as mothers the world over revel in proclaiming the world is not fucking fair - although it is only generally in the north of England that they choose to include the expletive. So, let's make the world a tiny touch fairer. The next time you see someone unduly rich do something mean to them, perhaps plant some drugs on them, pull a face at them, or simply expose yourself in front of their grandmother, whatever it may be do it with a song of freedom in your pretty little heart.

*although I did once spend three excruciating and ghastly summer days erecting marquees for summer balls in the summer of 2001

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