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Simon has asked me to jump in while he is basking in Cumbrian sun with his lovely boyfriend, and supply this week's dose of the Simon-esque. Those are some big shoes to step into, and I have been wracking my brain trying to come up with a subject as well-informed and thought-provoking as what he writes (as opposed to the self-indulgent crap I produce). To be honest, it's probably not gonna happen. I'll probably look like this.
I considered the new anti-rape condom , because at first glance it seemed like a shit idea (who wants a rapist stuck in them and then get battered to death when he breaks into a panic?!), but I realised my error upon enduring listening to that South African doctor (sorry, that accent just makes me bristle), I thought it's actually rather clever... unless you forget to take it out for a date - surefire way to never see that bloke again! Made that film "Teeth" almost prophetic.
So no debate there.

The thing is, once one leaves university and joins the work force (and gets a bit older), all original thought goes out the window. I guess the Frankfurt School was onto something. You bust your ass for a pittance and spend most of your life at work, fretting over repetitive tasks and targets, just so you can keep your job, only to come home, shattered and barely able to cook dinner, much less plan protests/improvement of society. All you really want is to give your mind a little break and you end up watching Big Brother or Hollyoaks (did anyone else notice how the stuff they feed us on telly is gradually, increasingly becoming more idiotic, but we're still eating it? Then you go out and buy yourself all the mass-produced stuff to give yourself a sense of reward, or simply because owning stuff disguises one's actual poverty, and the fact that one's living conditions are perhaps not ideal, but buying things to camouflage that fact is a lot easier than going out and fighting for something better.

Reading this again makes me feel like I'm oversimplifying, but the more I apply it to my life and the lives around me, the more I see truth in it.

Best example? Football. I'm writing this as Germany is wiping the floor with England (not that I particularly care for either team or the sport itself). My little town was deserted, and one could hear the howls of pain from the various pubs surrounding the shop I worked in today. I have never ever seen so much united force and passion for anything else, other than the Blitz - and what's football in the grand scheme? War or sports, that's the two things that truly ignite people with an energy that is both frightening and awe-inspiring.

Call me a miserable cow, but that (and retail!) is quite depressing.

But then there are those little things happening that sort of give me hope. Like this woman that came into the shop and bought a stack of books for her 11-year-old son (which he had picked, mind you). And I am not talking Bloody Astrosaurs and Percy Jackson. They were books most 20-year-olds would not have read, classics. Faulkner, Steinbeck, Harper Lee, James Joyce's Ulysses, for crying out loud! I was agape and told her how amazed I am at his reading level, and how pleased to see that at least one parent seems to care that her kids are not conditioned to be morons. And she said something that was beautiful in its simplicity: "We haven't got a television, that's why he spends all his time reading."
God, he must get so much stuff done!


So what is my point? I don't know. I write self-indulgent crap, remember?
I guess it would be: Throw out your television. And stay in school! Your parents wanted you, so they can pay for it. That will teach them.

Yours truly,

Patty