Well, it's been an interesting few weeks since I last blogged, all of them jam-packed with life changing incidents of the type you wouldn't believe if you read about them in a book, which you will hopefully be able to do in the near future.
Although the squalid lack of professionalism which assorted commercial contractors have subjected my household to over the past two months shouldn't be considered surprising, it still has been. We have been forced into the act of having to comprehend the depths of the mental squalor in which some of these people operate, and at times it's been very unpleasant. What has been equally surprising has been the discovery that some of them seem to think that you live in that kind of squalor as well. Nothing in the UK seems to work any more. You agree that you will give people money to do things for you, and then they don't do them. This has happened three times in the past two months, capitalism so stagnant and squalid it makes Marxism seem vital. The past two months have merely reinforced my long held impression that the United Kingdom is sinking into a state of torpor and squalor so squalid that recovery from it is an impossibility.
You see this squalor in everything, from the streets paved with dogshit to the almost comically Ruritanian uniforms worn by the Royal Family, from the grossly high number of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed thinktankers and journalists talking about capitalism rather getting out there and doing it, from our Coalition government's dogged insistence that the private sector will take up the slack in the job market when the history of the past 200 years shows that it never does because it never can (if only because true entrepreneurs are as rare as phoenixes), and in the squalid anthropology of the contractor, from their absolute, in my mind now proverbial, lack of dependability to their willingness to lie to you. In his compelling if necessarily grisly book 'Sins Of the Fathers', the late James Pope-Hennessey recorded that the act of subjection makes liars of the subjected. The extent to which the British now tell each other lies makes me wonder whether we have also assumed the psychological mantle of the subjected, and express it in false expressions. If so, we are subjects of the most squalid form of mainstream capitalism that has ever existed; the capitalism of inefficiency, incompetence, squalor and lies.
It's enough to make you want to emigrate. I think Somalia would be a good bet. They've been badly governed for so long that at least it's understandable if things don't work. With any luck, bits of it might be being administered by the UN, so you'll still get rice and bog rolls. Anything, anything, is better than the squalor in which so many British people are forced to live so that some can get rich. If you think it would be better in an independent Scotland think again, because for what my opinion's worth it would be run as squalidly as the UK is run at the moment, but with a higher proportion of narrow-minded village bullies - Bothyneuk Curling Club's Gala Committee writ on a national scale.
All in all, I will be glad to see the back of this year. Merry Christmas to you all.
Labels: The Blogger's Deepest Thoughts