Thursday 17 May 2012

THAT WASN'T WHAT I MEAN'T AT ALL

I wonder if those who voted tory are now feeling even a teeny, weeny, bit ashamed and embarrassed that even amputees and cancer sufferers are being forced to work.  Did you really think that tax cuts would apply to all those in work and not just the top 5%?  Do you feel that you have been had? 

Do you feel in pleasure in seeing the poor suffer whilst the super rich are transferring their haul to offshore islands?  Does your need to punish the feckless override your compassion for the genuine?  Do you believe that those in the Jeremy Kyle queues will become God fearing, law abiding citizens if you give them just enough to live on, but not enough to buy fags and white cider.  Note to lawmakers and angry mobs, life doesn't work that way, they will still buy fags and cider, they will go without food, and so will their kids. 

To those who scream, it should be like the old days, no it fecking shouldn't!  Here's the thing, as we grow older, our memories mellow, we begin to reminisce with an inbuilt safety device that colours our past.  Creationists would say its God's way of easing our old age, scientists might say it is the release of a hormone or pheremone (something like that) - nature's way of softening our exit from this world.  Think of every old person you know, and their short term memory will be shot, but they will smile when they think and talk about the past.  If you are over 50, try going 24 hours without saying 'in my day'. 

But I digress, I feel that for most, they do want to stand up and 'no, that wasn't what I mean't at all' (the divine Prufrock), but I have to stand by my beliefs or I will look stupid. 

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